


reverse psychology

by Darkhymns



Series: Before the Eighth Soul [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Angst, Drama, Gen, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-07 16:23:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5463212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkhymns/pseuds/Darkhymns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“If I have one piece of advice for you… DON’T… let his brother… don’t let Sans find out ANYTHING about you. He’ll…well… let’s just say he’s caused me more than my fair share of resets. Stay away from that guy.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. the setup

**Author's Note:**

> What if Sans and Asriel met long before? What then?

Occasionally, Asriel and his foster sibling, who was also his best friend, would go back Home, a place that now lied in decrepit ruins where only a few monsters lived. They wouldn't go by themselves, of course. They were only children after all, as the Queen would remind them often, patting Asriel's head and feeding his sibling the chocolate that they dearly loved. And though they often begged to go with her, knowing she was weak to their whines, Asriel, truthfully never really wanted to come along in the first place. At least the capital was full of life.

"This place is so empty and boring," he told his best friend as they traversed through the caverns, heading for that same grotto where the ground was bare, and the expanse of the sky was too far away to be seen so clearly. Both of them were wearing matching striped shirts, green lined with yellow bars. "I don't know why you keep wanting to come here. You know the barrier is back at New Home, right?"

His best friend, as always, would just smile. And every time, Asriel would tell himself that this was just how the humans must smile, no matter the silence.

Queen Toriel was making her rounds to visit the other monsters, to those that lived in this empty section of the underground, and thus had little knowledge of the current happenings of the kingdom. She would leave her children in their temporary home, telling them to stay where it was safe, for the Ruins would have tricky puzzles and trickier monsters who may not be so kind. But always they would leave just as soon as she did. Asriel would sometimes have to run to catch up to his best friend, knees scraping against the stone.

On one outing, Asriel had tripped down a small slope. He gasped, hitting the point of his elbow against the ground sharply, ripping his shirt. He had fallen quite a few feet, and was momentarily dizzy, his eyes adjusting to the softly lit darkness. The sun's reflection from the surface was weak, barely lighting up the area.

"H-hey!" he called out, searching for his friend. He tried looking up the slope, but his ankle suddenly hurt more than he expected. "I… I think my leg is broken!" Tears threatened to drip down his muzzle. He did his best to blink them away.

For a moment, he saw his best friend standing on top of the cliff, eyes bright, mouth pulled into that perpetual smile. Asriel smiled back, waving his arms for help.

The human child stepped away into the shadows, leaving him alone.

Asriel didn't say anything at first. He waited until the cavern winds blew, waited until not even his fur could keep him warm. It wasn't long. He had always been so much weaker than his best friend, and called out to them again.

"Wait! Don't leave me here!" He tried to crawl over, but kept wincing at the sharp pain. Already he was beginning to cry.  _Big kids don't cry,_  he thought frantically, but it didn't help. "I… I can't… I don't know what to do!"

"hey, ease up."

The injured boy turned, his heart pounding. Who was that? He hadn't even heard anyone come up to him.

Not far from him at all was another monster, older than him, but not much taller at all, dressed in a casual hooded sweatshirt, and shorts that nearly reached down to his ankles. He was so pale, to the point where he looked as if his very skin must have been made of bones-

"Are you a skeleton?" he asked rather dumbly.

The skeleton, hands in his pockets, looked down at himself. He raised his eye sockets to look back at the child. Pinpricks of white stared out from them. Pupils? Or just reflections of the light?

"last i checked." He pointed at Asriel. "so are you, you know. technically."

The skeleton had a wide smile on his face, which Asriel guessed made sense, since he had no skin or fur to cover it with. Though he couldn't really tell if it was an actual smile or…

"I'm not… supposed to talk with strangers." He looked away with a sniffle, hoping to see his best friend again. "I should go." He tried to stand up with dignity, succeeding in only falling back on his face.

"whoa hey." The skeleton moved closer, stopping only a few inches away. "don't be scared."

 _Big kids don't get scared._  "I'm not! I just don't need any help, that's all."

Somehow, with no eyelids to speak of, the skeleton winked at him from his left eye socket. "come on, kid. what did i do to grab your  _goat_ now?"

Asriel tilted his head in confusion. The skeleton pointed at him again.

"you know, cause you're a goat. heh. or….wait, are you a ram? or a dog? ya got the ears for it."

Asriel felt his lips curl. A laugh tumbled out of his throat. "Oh, I get it now!"

The monster looked a bit relieved. "phew, thought i was losing my touch there."

He realized his smile wasn't so bad really. His nerves eased, the laughter aching his lungs.

"now that the ice is broken," the skeleton said, tapping the heel of his foot against the ground. He looked like he was wearing loafers that were three sizes too big for him. "wanna tell me what's broken with you?"

Asriel flicked a glance to his leg, but quickly looked away. "It's not… that bad. I just can't seem to get up very well, that's all. Besides!" He kept his lips firm, fists clenched. "My friend will be here for me. They just went to go get some help."

"oh. that sounds good." Hands still in his pockets, the skeleton winked again. "then i can just keep you company till then. it can get awfully… _bonely_  around here by yourself."

Asriel cracked another smile. "You sure must have a…  _skele-ton_  of those jokes, huh?"

The skeleton shook a little, his deep, quiet laugh accompanied by rattling - of his ribs, Asriel was guessing. "you learn pretty fast, kid."

He was comfortable enough to finally admit his real problem. "I think my leg is broken. I can't move it at all."

At that, his new friend moved closer, bending down on one knee. "mind if i check it out? i know a thing or two about broken bones."

"Really? Why?"

"um." The skeleton gestured to himself.

"Oh, yeah."

"and it looks more like an ankle thing then a leg anyway. it's not so bad."

"But it…kinda hurts." Asriel didn't mean to let out a little whimper, but he had shifted, and the pain started anew. At least the tears had stopped.

"don't move too much, kid." A brief pause. "here, let me try something."

The skeleton finally slipped his left hand from his pocket, thin phalanges bending, as stark white as the rest of him. Then that hand started to glow, blue light coating the bones in its entirety like a well-fitted glove. It was bright enough to light up the darkness that made up most of the Ruins.

Asriel was instantly reminded of his mother, how she would sometimes light up the path with her own magic, spreading it around like tiny, controlled bonfires. This skeleton's magic also had that kind of warmth.

The hand hovered over his ankle, enveloping it in heat. He didn't feel much at first, and was surprised when the skeleton moved back not too long after.

"was sprained. should be better now though. try walking."

Asriel obeyed, picking himself up with hesitation. He pressed down on his right foot. There was still a little ache, but he could move now. He could move!

"Wow! Thanks! I… I never knew magic could heal, too."

"well, yeah." The skeleton pocketed his hand again, extinguishing the light. "if you don't happen to have some nice cream on ya, magic like this sure comes in…." He trailed off, waiting.

"Handy!" Asriel answered, laughing cheerfully.

The skeleton winked. "knew you wouldn't let me down."

His new friend kept cracking jokes and puns, enough to make Asriel's cheeks ache with his constant smiles. He wasn't sure how long that lasted, until he felt he ought to say something.

"Thanks for helping me." He shifted. "My name is Asriel Dreemur, by the way. So… howdy!"

The skeleton paused for a short moment. Obviously, he must have recognized the name, and the child prepared for a shift in tone, for the monster to start acting all proper and boring when one met with the prince of the Underground.

"sans the skeleton. nice meeting ya, royal buddy." He held out his right hand. "put er' there."

Asriel took the hand, and a long, raspberry sound emitted between their palms. He flinched.

"heh." Sans raised up his hand, which held a small whoopee cushion strapped on. "it's always funny, huh?"

And Asriel had to laugh again, agreeing with the skeleton completely.

* * *

"It's just a temporary home for us now," Asriel explained, following Sans as they traveled out of the caves to the vast hallways, wading through small rivers, flicking open switches to strange puzzles. "I don't think my mother would like me telling you where it is anyway."

"no prob, kid. i can just drop you off around here, far away from any cliffs, ledges, or pits." He then pointed to some piles of red leaves. "except for those pits there. probably don't wanna go over there."

The prince heeded the advice, and once both were at a crossroads in the Ruins, the air a bit chill, he decided to ask a question. "What are you doing here in the Ruins anyway? Only the Froggits and some spiders live here mostly. And… sometimes that weird Jerry guy passes by."

"on the job." Sans winked. "top secret mission and all."

"So you can't tell me?"

"nope. that's why they're called secrets, ya know."

Usually he'd back down with an apology. But his best friend had once asked him why he wouldn't just use his status to get what he wanted. He would have to at some point, wouldn't he? His best friend was always smart like that.

So Asriel tried to put on his best royal voice, standing up tall, head raised high to show off his horns, even though those horns were really just stubs. "But I'm the prince! The future ruler of the Underground. So, I, um… order you to tell me!" He crossed his arms triumphantly.

Sans held up both bony hands in mock surrender. "alright, alright. here, i'll tell you, but we can't let anyone else know."

Taking this act of secret-sharing very seriously, Asriel leaned nearer for Sans to whisper to him the mission that he was on, his floppy ear perked up slightly.

After three seconds, Asriel stepped back, eyes wide and jaw slack.

"…You're…. looking for the legendary fartmaster?"

Sans shrugged, his permanent grin brighter than the rest of his face. "i have to find him soon, so that i can learn all of his techniques."

Asriel pouted. "But I'm serious! I want to know what your mission was!"

"and i told you."

Just as he was about to protest some more, the skeleton turned away, his eyeless gaze peering through the rock ceiling. For a moment, Asriel remembered the hint of sky he once saw, that day his best friend fell. He wondered if the skeleton, being here, had ever seen it.

"besides, the higher powers that be can't let me talk too much about it."

Despite his years, Asriel could understand the implications behind his words. "Do you mean my parents?"

Sans turned back to him. "heh, you just see right through me, don't ya, kid?"

Despite his lips cracking another smile, the boy tried to stay stubborn. "I could always just ask them about you."

"yeah, you could," Sans answered him, calling his bluff.

Sometimes, Asriel really wished he was more like his best friend. They'd always be able to get what they wanted or needed, as they did from both the king and queen. He was sure that they could do the same with Sans. But all Asriel himself could do was pout, scuffing a clawed foot against the floor.

Strangely, the skeleton decided to throw him a bone, so to say. "i know the guy that works for your dad. you probably met him before. speaks with his hands, kinda?"

A brief trip through his memory and, yes, Asriel could remember someone like that. That man with a silent kind of smile, and that whenever his voice echoed, pictures seemed to form, sometimes making no sense. His dad had been able to understand him, though he was one of the few who could really get what the Royal Scientist could say.

"Wait, so are you Dr. Gaster's-"

Sans held up a hand, asking for the prince's silence. "sorry, kid. that's all you're getting today."

Footsteps echoed ahead of them.

Asriel whirled around, recognizing that even tread, so methodical in its pace, never hurrying, never frantic. "Oh! It's…" He reached for San's hand, the thin bones engulfed easily by his own fleshier appendage. "Here, I want you two to meet."

Sans let himself be tugged along, having to meet the prince's fast pace as they rushed to the foster sibling of Asriel, the human that had fallen into the Underground just over a year ago. The child smiled vacantly, their eyes bright, their irises the color of the red leaves that would curiously scatter around the floor of the Ruins. A locket hung around their neck, hand-crafted by the queen herself, to show her devotion and love for the child that was neither her blood nor her kind.

"Hey! Did you get lost?" Asriel immediately asked, then pulled Sans up more to avoid the answer. "This guy helped me find my way back. He's really funny! His name's Sans."

"hey." Sans waved with his other hand. "what's up?"

The human child said nothing, instead staring at the skeleton with that same, blank expression. Silence was their response.

"quite a talker, huh?"

Asriel really wanted his best friend to like Sans, so he came up with an idea. "Sans, tell him one of your jokes."

"alright." Sans cleared his throat. "knock, knock."

The child stayed silent.

Flustered, the prince stuttered to take his best friend's role in the joke. "W-who's there?"

"dishes," Sans answered, not missing a beat.

"Dishes who?"

"dishes a very bad joke."

Asriel laughed, mixing it along with San's chuckle. He turned to his best friend, ready to just interpret their smile as acknowledgment that it had indeed been a joke.

And they still smiled, but there was something different about it. Tighter, forced almost. The human child walked away.

"Wait, I didn't get to introduce you-" but they had turned the corner of the hallway, leaving Sans and Asriel to themselves.

"well, it  _was_ a pretty bad joke," Sans said light-heartedly.

Asriel just felt terrible about the whole thing. "I'm really sorry. They… don't usually just leave like that." At least not without staring for a minute or two.

"don't worry about it. i have to head out anyway."

Asriel couldn't really explain about why he didn't want his new friend to leave. They had only talked for a small time, but he hadn't enjoyed such jokes in a while. "Well, I hope to see you again soon. Maybe you can come by at New Home!"

"probably." Sans looked ahead of him, down into that corridor where the human had left. "just be careful, okay?"

"Well, of course." The prince grew suspicious. "Why are you saying that?"

"just don't wanna see you tripping down slopes again. won't always be here to look out for ya."

"That's fine. They always look out for me anyways."

He didn't have to specify who he meant.

The skeleton's grin was wide. "did they now?"

"Yes! They were just off to go get our mother! If they climbed down, they'd only get hurt, too!" Asriel clenched his fists, his teeth gritted. Never had he suddenly felt so angry. "Don't make fun of them! You don't get what they've been through!"

Sans made no clear change in his expression. "i wasn't." Then he shrugged. "i don't have any bones to pick with them."

Asriel didn't react, his eyes cast downward into the floor. His voice was barely above a whisper. "You don't understand. Only they do, only they ever have."

Silence passed between them. Sans took his cue to leave.

"i'll catch ya later, okay, royal buddy?"

The heat of his rage passed. Asriel looked up to the skeleton with some shame. "I… I'm sorry. I was just…"

"relax, kid. no biggie." Another shrug. "besides, with us skeletons, nothing gets  _under our skin."_

The joke caught him off-guard. Asriel laughed, the intensity of his previous rage transforming into ecstatic humor. He doubled-over slightly, hands on his knees.

"That-! That was really-!" He raised up his head then, but Sans was suddenly nowhere to be found. He hadn't even heard him walk away.

When he went to find his best friend later, back at his old room where there was only one bed, he couldn't help but ask, "Why did you leave? Did I do something wrong?"

With that same smile, they had told him how much they didn't like comedians.

* * *

He'd made a mistake.

"I don't want to do this anymore," Asriel said aloud that day his best friend died. His arms strained as he carried the human's body, climbing his way to the top of the mountain. Didn't matter that his body had changed to something wondrous. Each step he took terrified him, and yet he couldn't break out of the hold. "I can't keep going on with this."

His best friend disagreed.

"I don't want to hurt anyone."

His best friend said he needed to.

"I don't want you to be dead!"

His best friend said it was too late for that.

He walked down to that village, underneath the brightest star he had never seen before, brighter than the shining rocks in Waterfall. There was that field of flowers his best friend would talk about, golden and soft, the wind bringing him its pleasant fragrance. In that field of flowers, the humans saw him. They saw him and hurled rocks and dirt and sharp tools. They cried in anger at the dead child he carried, despite the fact that he was a child himself. And though he was now tall and grown, housing the soul of his best friend, wielding powers beyond any normal monster - it hurt still.

His best friend told him they needed six more souls. They needed to kill these humans, and perhaps even a few extra, to make sure that the barrier would be destroyed. Everyone was counting on them; Mother, Father, the pleading monsters of New Home. Everyone. His best friend had been smart, had always been the smart one, coming up the plan for everyone's freedom. If Asriel had half of his best friend's intelligence, he would have allowed them full control, and effectively wipe out the villagers. Quick, easy, bringing the souls down to the barrier, and finally earn freedom. It's kill or be killed, remember? Did he really want to die?

But Asriel knew he wasn't smart, that he wasn't much of anything, really. He was so overcome by fear that his limbs locked in place, doing nothing to the humans attacking him, letting every projectile hit his body until he felt close to breaking down. Asriel wasn't brave either. He could not willingly go die for the sake of monsters, as his best friend did. That was why he had left the village, climbing back up Mt. Ebott, and fell down to the land below where he laid down his best friend's body, himself finally turning to dust. There had been flower seeds on his clothes, floating through the air to settle, to grow.

His best friend had long stopped talking to him before he died.

When Flowey woke up in the garden, he realized how alone he was. He cried out, unable to feel his body, calling for his mother, his father. He called out for his best friend. But nobody came.

At least, not at first.

King Asgore was no help. Flowey realized then that his father had barely been much help to begin with. Large hands would cradle his petals, and he'd always be given just the right amount of water, along with all the other plants that he now resembled in that garden. "I know Mommy's not here," Asgore would say apologetically. "But we can still be a family together."

He had such a sniveling, pathetic voice, just as his best friend would often tell him with a grin. How had he never noticed that himself before?

"Show me where they're buried," he had asked once. "I want to see them again."

Asgore would refuse, like always. "I don't like going there myself."

Coward.

So Flowey had run away, all the way past Hotland, past Waterfall, past Snowdin, paying no thought to the drastic temperatures. Why bother, when you can just travel underground like a fast, burrowing worm, your roots extended to all places at once? He had gone back to his old home, thinking that maybe being inside his room again would awaken something in him. It was a time before his best friend had fallen, when the King and Queen had lived there on the edge of the Underground, looking up to a sky they could barely see or recognize.

His mother was there, baking her pies, writing her puns, and doing all other sorts of motherly things. As expected, she had cried when her son, thought to be long gone, was back in her arms once more, but trapped in such a fragile, ludicrous form. "My sweet child," she had whispered, cradling his petals with her own large hands. "At least we can be together again."

She was so smothering, so overbearing. His best friend had told him that, those observant eyes always open. How had he never noticed that himself before?

They were useless. He couldn't be at fault for trying, for he did so much, weathering through Asgore's complaints, through Toriel's weeping sentiments. But everyone has their limits, and he had reached his long ago. So he ran away again, back to the garden where he fell, the ground more sparse then before. The king was gone, so he was alone. He might as well have his best friend's courage now, couldn't he? He might as well die. It wasn't like he was missing out on much anymore.

He'd made a mistake.

He woke up again in that garden, but the day was different. Familiar. The other flowers were more full, leaving no patch uncovered, unlike before. He was back.

Again.

He had learned something new about himself. He was not strong, or smart, not at all. But he was-

Determined. Was he not?

That was at least one thing that he could share with his deceased best friend. Determined enough to not die, but to start over, back at his SAVE POINT in the king's garden. Determined enough to keep going, and maybe try something new.

If he was determined enough to live, surely he could be determined enough to actually love, like he used to, couldn't he?

And maybe…

 **They**  would finally talk to him again.


	2. heavy hitters

It was easy to make friends when one was a happy, cheerful little flower. That and monsters were notoriously known for being so trusting. Just one reason as to how they were all trapped in the Underground in the first place. All he had to do was be the best friend there was, and the rest just fell into the place.

And some monsters were just easier to make friends with then others.

"THANK YOU SO MUCH, FLOWEY! THIS COMPLIMENTS MY BATTLE BODY PERFECTLY!" Papyrus was actually bouncing on his feet, holding up the new, dark blue cloak that his plant friend had given him. It was stitched with the lettering, 'The Great Papyrus' in red thread, and its hem was frilled with golden tassels. Overdone, of course, but as if the skeleton understood such a thing.

"I saw you had your eye on that ensemble!" spoke the flower, voice as cheerful as always. "It was a little expensive, but no price is too high for the Great Papyrus! This should show Undyne how cool you totally are. Obviously, if you wanna be in the Royal Guard, you gotta look the part!"

"NYEH HEH HEH. YOU ARE AS GREAT A FRIEND AS I AM! COME! LET US RECALIBRATE SOME MORE PUZZLES! NEVER KNOW WHEN HUMANS WILL BE ABOUT!"

"Ah, yes… more puzzles." The skeleton sentry didn't notice the shift in Flowey's tone. He never did. How many times had he done this, going over this same conversation, the same motions? Flowey didn't know. He had long stopped counting after the twentieth reset.

It was always the same, still; give something new to the hyperactive idiot, watch him flail his bony arms, follow him into the deep banks of Snowdin, watch him create such ridiculous puzzles that a child of five could easily figure out.

It is not at all endearing, or charming, or any of the sort. Sometimes, Flowey just wanted to smash that bonehead, just once. He could change the course of events; a small dialogue tick, exchanging a laugh for a sigh instead, but it didn't really mean anything when it all ended up the same way.

"But… wouldn't you like to do something else for once?" Flowey tried, knowing he had asked this question a thousand times, in a thousand different ways. "Maybe expand your cooking set? I've heard that making chicken pot pie can be really simple if you-"

At that, Papyrus turned around, gasping so hard that he looked ready to choke on his own breath. "FLOWEY! YOU KNOW THE CULINARY ARTS CALLS FOR ONLY PERFECTION! WHAT MORE PERFECT FOOD THERE WAS THAN MY SIGNATURE SPAGHETTI?"

 _Ugh._ Flowey did his best not to grimace. "Well, okay then. How about we then make some pasta-"

"AND NOT DO PUZZLES!? YOU KNOW HOW IMPORTANT THIS IS! ALTHOUGH THAT IS ALSO AN EXCELLENT IDEA WE MUST DO LATER." He pointed down the path, which was covered by the constant snow. "BUT FIRST I MUST FULFILL MY PURPOSE."

If Flowey just ate all the snow around him, maybe he could give himself some brain freeze and fall into a coma. That'd be something different, at least.

"hey, bro. like the new duds ya got."

And on cue, there was the other brother, appearing out of the side like nobody's business. Flowey put on his best smile. "Hi, Sans! I didn't see you around all day!"

"that's cuz I was sleeping. I mean… working. obviously." He winked.

"SANS. YOU BETTER NOT HAVE BEEN SLACKING OFF."

"no way, bro."

"OKAY, GOOD."

Sans was a whole other story. It was hard enough to get this guy to do anything too different. Flowey did his best to be as close of a friend as he was to Papyrus, but the smaller skeleton always seemed to vanish somewhere, or make an excuse to go off to Grillby's. For a guy that supposedly slept a majority of the day, he was certainly always in a hurry to just go somewhere.

"hey. got a new one for ya?"

"SANS. NO."

"knock, knock."

"SANS."

"Who's there?" Flowey asked, knowing the routine.

"boo."

"SANS."

"Boo who?"

Sans was already snickering. "don't cry. it was just a joke."

Papyrus, predictably, screamed out his non-existent lungs, stamping his feet into the snow. "OH MY GOD. THAT WAS EVEN WORSE THAN THE LAST."

"harsh, bro."

Though Flowey giggled, he couldn't help but agree with the yelling skeleton for once. Sans' jokes were tired, old things. Just as his best friend once told him. How had he never noticed it himself before?

"need me to hold onto that thing?" Sans asked his brother, gesturing to the cloak. "seems a bit long for ya. might snag onto a snowdrake."

"OH! GOOD IDEA." Papyrus took off the cloak, tossing it to Sans who caught it with his face, barely moving an inch. "BE SURE TO HAVE THAT DRY CLEANED FOR ME."

"no prob," came the muffled answer.

"ONWARD TO PUZZLES!" Limbs flailing in his walk, the taller skeleton was off, moving past the mist of snow onto the slope ahead. Usually, this was where Flowey would trail after him after Sans would ask to watch over something. Last time had been a hat that said "90's Kid," another time had been some sunglasses that didn't really make much sense, since they were underneath a mountain and all, but which Papyrus loved anyway, and the other time before had been a bowl of frozen spaghetti that Flowey had just taken from the skeleton brothers' home. Suffice to say, Papyrus was easily impressed.

Watching him leave, Flowey instead stuck around with Sans, who was still standing in the exact same spot, cloak over his head, hands in his pockets. He had also done this before too, though with less than impressive results.

"not going with him?" Sans asked through the cover.

"He doesn't really need my help. Papyrus is such an expert with puzzles!" Flowey put on extra exuberance in his voice, his smile close to straining his face.

As if finally getting enough energy, Sans pulled the cloak off his skull, draping it on his right shoulder. "guess you're right. he really is the coolest like that." Flowey could never tell if he was being sarcastic about that. Everything he said was so relaxed to that point it almost made the flower fall asleep himself.

Sans then sauntered off, the cloak dragging across the snow. "well, see ya."

This was probably the best chance he would get, which is what he always told himself, but heck, he was desperate. The flower moved forward, roots snaking through the ground to aid in his traverse. "Hey, Sans. What about you? I can get you something cool, if you'd like. You probably have a birthday coming up soon, right?" Though he wondered if skeletons actually had birthdays. Papyrus had certainly never mentioned it.

"don't worry about it. grillby's has all the things i need."

Oh right, his gross ketchup obsession. Well, Flowey could probably find some old, discarded ketchup bottles in the dump later. "Going there again, huh?" He said instead. "I wanna come along!"

"if you wanna. not sure where you can _plant_ yourself though. heh heh."

Sans wasn't even looking at him. And the way he talked, so dismissively and uncaring, struck a nerve (or a stem?) in Flowey.

"What did you do before you lived here?" he asked bluntly. "You… didn't always live in Snowdin, right?"

He had asked this before.

Sans didn't let up his pace. Though it took him a while for him to answer, enough to make Flowey think that he fell asleep, which wouldn't have been the first time. "went to clown college once. but the place was a _joke."_ He chuckled.

Flowey didn't play along this time. He had heard that same punchline six times now. "I'm serious. Where did you and Papyrus live? In Hotland? I bet it was the Capital, right? I mean, not many places to choose from!"

Sans stopped walking.

Flowey nearly smashed his petaled faced into Sans' tibia. Backing up, Flowey tried to stand up as tall as he could in his flowery form. This was different! Maybe he would get a change of dialogue for once.

Sans turned. His grin was still as easygoing, slippered feet digging deep into the snow banks. "what about you, buddy? you just showed up one day, too."

"I was…" Flowey hesitated. He hadn't prepared for this answer, though he guessed he should have. "I came from the Ruins. Home." He waited for a change in Sans' expression. The prince with the sprained ankle, the echoes of knock knock jokes.

"cool." Sans walked away again.

Flowey blinked. He felt his roots swivel underneath the ground, like snakes seeking a way out. "Hey! You didn't answer my question!"

"i did. clown college. gotta keep up." He gave the laziest wave that any person in history ever gave, keeping his gaze straight ahead. "also gotta get this cloak fixed up. see ya." He then turned a corner, heading straight for Grillby's.

Flowey's face shifted, gritting large teeth. He was really starting to hate comedians.

* * *

Continue. Reset.

RESET.

* * *

Reset, try again, explore other avenues of possibilities. After all, possibilities should be endless. Trying to discover a certain pathway, or a new branch of dialogue, should have been very exciting. But the thing was, all the monsters were painfully predictable at times. He'd start from his SAVE point in the garden, and already he'd be bored out of his mind.

In this world of armless monster kids, blushing airplanes, and weird eye-face freaks with a penchant for humiliation play, Flowey wouldn't show himself to just anyone really. Undyne, for example, was so hell-bent on capturing a human that she would aim to prove herself on beating anything up. A talking flower may not have been the most bizarre thing in the Underground, but that probably wouldn't stop her from suplexing a plant. He revealed himself to her only a few times, and there were moments when he could talk enough to not have her want to arm wrestle him right away.

And Alphys, Flowey would see even less. He remembered that laboratory, steel walls and shambling piles of goop screeching in a multitude of nonsense. It had scared him at first, but now sometimes he would hide among the vents, watching fascinated as the Royal Scientist would feed them all dog treats with tears in her eyes. He couldn't remember her being on this level of pathetic before, but then she liked those weird cartoons, so it wasn't unexpected at all. Sometimes, he'd tried to have fun and come up to her, telling her that she was to be next chosen magical girl monster, and to sign a contract with him. She'd squeal so loud, shouting and jumping around about all her dreams coming true, until she would look at him closely with some recognition there. He never really liked that stare of her's. She was always such a mouth-breather anyways, and the stench of ramen packets were too easy to discern.

On some resets, he would stay with Asgore, which wasn't always easy, with all the monsters clogging up New Home, and even his old house. Staying there was always so draining. Especially when he knew his father would refuse him his wish of seeing where all the humans were buried, and where all the souls were kept.

He had even tried not interacting with anyone at all, just watching from the sidelines, remapping their routines for their daily lives, sometimes unaware of just how trapped they really were, away from the sky he had once seen, stuck underneath this great mountain. It only made him feel more empty, which in turn created more disdain, which in turn created anger.

His best friend had been right. Everyone here really was worthless.

But he was determined. Isn't that why he couldn't die? He kept making friends with Papyrus, for he was really the only other monster that would give him full attention, next to possibly that armless kid. But that voice could get very, _very_ grating at times. It would be better if he could just…cut it out. Just silence Papyrus completely.

The thought of killing Papyrus came to him very naturally.

He didn't act on it right away. "I don't actually like this. I just have to know." That was the excuse he gave himself, though it didn't stop him from going over the possible scenarios in his head. Besides, there must have been other events he could trigger before he went and did something so extreme, even if he could just reset that issue.

After all, if he killed Papyrus, he would have to kill Sans next. They were such a pair, he wouldn't want to leave anyone out. Sans would appreciate it.

The decision to murder soon became his only option.

So when Papyrus went off to the east to re-do one of his 'dastardly' puzzles, inviting Flowey along as he always had, nyeh heh hehing as he always did, the plant thought that, well, it might as well be now. Sans would be coming along soon. Just kill them both, and move on.

"HAVE I SHOWED YOU MY SNOW SCULPTURE YET?" Papyrus was yelling. He gestured to a snow replica of himself, arm flexed to show a meaty bicep that was not at all close to reality. "IT CAPTURES MY AMAZINGNESS QUITE WELL. AND SANS DID ONE TOO." He pointed to a lump of snow with the name 'SANS' scrawled in what looked like a ketchup trail. "IT'S QUITE AN IMPROVEMENT FROM THE LAST. WHY DON'T YOU MAKE ONE AS WELL?"

For the last hundred times, Flowey had, ripping icicles from the tree branches to give his flowery head a more edgy look. But that got old. Everything got old.

"I have a new game we could play together, Papyrus," he was saying. "It's like hide-and-seek, only better! Just close your eyes and count to ten."

Predictably, Papyrus clapped his hands excitedly. "OH! I LOVE HIDE-AND-SEEK. SANS IS ACTUALLY VERY GOOD AT IT. DID I TELL YOU ABOUT-"

"Just close your eyes, please?" Flowey widened his eyes with innocent hope, leaves extended as if waiting for a hug.

The skeleton listened. "OKAY. CLOSING EYES NOW. THE GREAT PAPYRUS SHALL COUNT FROM 10. THEN FROM 9. THEN FROM 8-"

Flowey struck forth a vine from one of the trees. It lashed out like a whip across Papyrus' chest. The skeleton was still trying to count, unaware of it at first, until his eyes comically bulged out, as it usually only did when Sans would tell another horrible joke.

He was immediately reduced to nothing but dust. The red scarf he wore fluttered to the ground.

Flowey just stared at first. He tried to discern the dust particles from the snow, could barely tell the difference. The wind blew strong, carrying fine powder into the breeze.

"Wow…" he whispered to himself, feeling the grin creep up on his face like an old, comforting friend. "It's so nice when it's quiet!" The silence truly did have a niceness to it, the kind that you heard after enduring so many years of noise and frustration. "How relaxing!"

He craned his head up, peering past the clouds of snow and frozen precipitation, to where twinkles of bright rocks were lodged in the rocky ceiling of the Underground. They glittered like stars, all in a myriad of colors. He lowered his gaze, finding those same lights reflected in other orbs of jewels in the trees, in the rocky walls, glinting white, orange, and here and there, a strange and hazy blue that would shift from place to place. What a great sight he was being treated to! How wonderful things looked after a death has taken place! Had the garden been like that for him when his old body disintegrated among the flower seeds?

He should ask his mother about that.

"I should do that right now! Oh, but killing Papyrus was much more fun than I thought! What an idiot he was!" He placed a leafy arm against his face in thought, just underneath his thin mouth, where his chin should have been. "I'll just reset, and I can do it again! I did do it way too fast after all!"

What better time than now anyway? It was like the array of lights were cheering him on to do just that! Some of them were even growing brighter, that blue glow shining as harsh as the sun.

He shut his eyes and chose his desired option. Only afterwards did he forget about killing Sans also. Luckily, he had an innumerable amount of chances for that.

* * *

Continue. Reset.

RESET.

* * *

"My child," Toriel would always say at this point, whenever Flowey would reveal who he really was. Here it was. The tears, the blubbering, the strength of her paws mussing up his petals to crinkle and nearly tear. "My child! I thought… I thought you were lost to me forever…"

Flowey was determined to see his new goal through. "But wasn't it beautiful?" he asked happily.

Toriel faltered, her sobs lessening at his glee. "Whatever do you mean?"

Perhaps he should have felt some sadness at her death. After all, she was his mother. He could recall the countless times she had held him when he scraped a knee, read him his favorite story at bedtime, and feed him one of her strange desserts. She had even readily accepted the human he had brought home, ecstatic to have another child in their home.

Roots tore open her chest like paper. Her eyes had widened in surprise. Spells of fire never made it past her throat before she was reduced to nothing but dust and tears, her soul shattering almost instantly. The space between that moment of extinguishment and realization was enough to convince Flowey that at least these kind of new runs might prove to be a little more interesting.

When he met up with Papyrus again, this time he gave him a chance to fight! Not like it was much of a fight anyway. After a few days of acting the happy, bright flower, it was all too easy to still catch the loud skeleton by surprise. After another round of screaming about puzzles and ridiculous snow sculptures, Flowey let show the roots that engulfed the entirety of the area, pulsating from the ground like veins.

Papyrus had backed off, hands at first in surrender, then arms stretched out in a waiting hug. "FLOWEY! YOU CAN BE A GOOD PERSON IF YOU TRY!"

Flowey had giggled mercilessly. "You really _are_ an idiot! I'm not even a person, you know!" Roots twirled around the skeleton, this time ripping off the monster's skull from his body. Another comical face of shock and pain, another wave of dust mixing with the snow.

He had killed his father, too, though he would at least try to get the king to show him the souls first. At least that way, he could make some progress there. But whenever Asgore would refuse, Flowey would eliminate him just as easily, pellets circling around him and cutting off his breath. He'd give extra injury to the soul that floated off, watching it crumple away like rot. That soul had been useless anyway. It was best to just get rid of it completely.

He now looked forward to each reset, killing his parents, then killing the monster who had been the first to be his friend. Didn't they know anything about souls? Didn't they know that something like him didn't care at all for them? The murders were so addictive that he would keep missing Sans each time. Sometimes he'd catch him around before he did the deed, but never for very long, and could never seem to find him afterwards. But like that mattered anyway. Sans would probably be even more boring than his brother. He might even just fall asleep before the finishing blow ever happened! Sans wasn't worth his time.

So Flowey would reset, awakening back in the garden, encouraged by all those beautiful lights just after Papyrus' death, white stars glinting along with blue.

He couldn't just settle with those three deaths, of course, even if they had been fun. Undyne had proven to be a neat little challenge, despite the annoying nature of her endless wealth of spears. She had been hissing and sputtering when he finally got her down to her last legs.

"I won't die! Not to you!" She had screamed at him so loud, her body wavering like fog. Like the disgusting fish she was, slime had dripped down her head, nearly soaking his roots. He thought he could hear Alphys screaming, all tucked away in her safe, little laboratory, watching as the one she loved slowly died. Flowey made sure to make sure that the little nerd wasn't so lonely for much longer. He gave the same generosity to the shambling amalgamates, to the other monster citizens of New Home, and Waterfall, and Hotland, to that monster kid who kept hanging around him like the stupid little creature he was.

He took every pathway, explored every play. Sometimes, he'd let one live, sometimes several. Sometimes he'd kill only a few, sometimes he'd kill all those standing in his way. There were new possibilities always waiting for him. Trying to be everyone's friend no longer gave him anything new. Once you knew how someone would react, gave them every gift, said all the nice things to warm their heart, that was all they were. But present them with something completely different, and you might just be surprised.

Every game for him was a win.

It was only after the twelfth or so murder run did he realize he had missed one vital piece into completing his little puzzle of death, the only way he could while away his time in the Underground, knowing that the Surface to him was out of his reach. His execution points, his LOVE, all these numbers that his best friend once explained to him long before – they were the highest they had ever been. But couldn't they go even higher?

"heya."

Hadn't he made a promise to himself?

Flowey turned, shaking off his father's dust from his petals, standing in that garden with all the non-talking flowers. Sans was there in the entryway, hands in his pockets, eye sockets showing two pinpricks of white, as always. The hood of his sweatshirt was over his white skull, for once.

With a grin, the plant edged forward. "I knew I'd forgotten someone."

The skeleton didn't move, face forever upturned in a grin. "you've been busy, huh?"

Flowey laughed. "Obviously! Were you just watching this whole time? You must really be some kind of sick freak, huh?"

His stem traveled through the dirt, hidden roots upending the other flowers to get out of his way. "Or were you just sleeping it all away again? Probably crying in the dark or something? What an idiot! You're such a worthless thing! You always were! Oh, but that's right! You don't know me in this timeline. But I know you. I've always known you! So, might as well introduce myself! I'm Flowey! Flowey the flower!" His grin morphed into a giddy snarl. _"Howdy."_

Sans showed no change in expression, like always. "then you should probably know it's always been a little hard for me to put some _spring_ into my step."

Flowey twitched. Jokes? Really? After all this? "You idiot. I'll just kill you right now and then start over again. Maybe next time, I can start with you first!"

He waited for confusion, for any kind of anger, especially at all the information Flowey was divulging. Not like Sans would remember it anyway. But the skeleton proved to be disappointing. He was still smiling.

"Hey! I'm talking to you!"

"yeah, and i'm all ears."

Flowey knew that was another joke, especially with Sans' very lack of ears. "Stop that!"

Sans held up his hands in mock surrender. "what's _stomata_ , kid? aint't relaxed?"

"I _am_ relaxed. More than I've ever been!" Flowey twisted his face, eyes sinking into blackness, mouth transforming into fangs. " _You_ shouldn't be relaxed at all!"

"don't worry. i'm not."

He straightened up slightly. His eye sockets suddenly held nothing, and when he spoke, his voice was slow in its enunciation.

"Y o u  d i r t y  b r o t h e r  k i l l e r."

For a moment, Flowey felt hesitant, until he realized that he didn't care. He only cackled.

"So what? It's not like you did anything to stop me."

Sans kept making his creepy face. It seemed to suck out all the air from the room, the flowers wilting from the silence. But Flowey still didn't care. "Are you actually going to do something for once in your pathetic life? That's new! Maybe you'll be more fun than the rest after all!"

Sans' voice was still very quiet.

"it's all going to be reset anyway." The light came back to his eyes. "but our reports showed timelines going haywire. stopping, starting, until suddenly, everything ends."

He hadn't moved an inch, but Flowey felt a shift in the skeleton's limbs. "and I just can't afford to not care anymore. not when you keep calling out to them like that."

And suddenly, he didn't understand.

Flowey growled. "What the hell are you talking about? Just shut up and let me kill you already. Guess I was wrong. You're still just as boring as ever!"

"sorry, buddy. i'm _bone_ -dry of good material these days." Sans seemed to ignore Flowey's snarl, and straight up disdained those throbbing vines and floating 'friendliness' pellets that circled around him. One hand slipped out of his pocket.

"birds are singing, flowers are blooming… especially you. we should probably change that."

He extended his arm.

Before Flowey could laugh, he lost his breath as he was shoved to the ground, the force near breaking his stems, pushing him into the dirt.

"Gah-!"

Then he was pulled upward, his roots dragging along with him, tugging up from the ground. Miles and miles of it extended from his small flower body. But they were unable to keep him at ground level, and he was instead smacked into the ceiling, a pair of petals finally wilting from the assault.

Sans was beneath him, one arm raised and holding nothing, an azure eye blazing from his pale face.

"keep up."

Then he was slammed down again, then to the right, then to the left. He had only less than a second to dodge the field of bones that would suddenly spring up from the ground, arrayed for him like daggers. He didn't do it well enough, and was grazed by them, their ends sharper then they appeared, pain flaring through his insides. He gasped, twisting his face with a macabre image of all those he had killed, including that of the idiot spaghetti-loving skeleton who had been too stupid to even realize that he had been nothing more than a pastime that had grown too boring with use.

"Stop it, Sans!" he screeched in a cacophony of all the dead. "Stop-!"

Click.

Darkness for just a moment. Flowey blinked and he was back again, but this time there was now a winding pathway of those bones, entering his field of vision, urging him to follow it unless he wanted to get hit repeatedly by those snaking walls. He had barely enough time to try, and his hesitance cost him, making him rattle down those bones until the end.

Click.

He was on a platform, and already a bone was hanging from the ceiling heading straight for him. He tried to edge off to the platform beneath him, but missed his shot when another bone barreled him off, making him fall into that wide expanse of alternating white.

Click.

Two vertical rows of those same annoying bones now slid towards him, ready to close in. He couldn't jump high enough to escape to the small gap between them, and was crushed underneath their weight. He gasped.

Click.

Darkness again. Then light, then four giant heads –skeletal things, fangs sharp as a canine's, eyes wide and feral- looking at him from all directions. He twitched, and they opened their mouths, blasting him with rays of white heat, burning him, charring the leaves, but not yet enough to kill him. He screamed.

Click.

And it stopped.

His head was near falling off, his roots completely mutilated, and his leaves all but charred to nothingness. He had only one petal left on his head, and just a small movement was enough to let it flutter uselessly to the ground.

"it's your turn, buddy."

Flowey just wanted to turn his head. He wanted to see the skeleton when he got him back with a pellet, but he already felt so weak, to the point that only one of his pellets appeared in the air, flying uselessly to the ground. Sans sidestepped the attack as easy as that.

"now it's mine."

Sans pushed him to the wall on his right like a rag doll, arm outstretched, never once going near him. He still tried so hard to struggle, bound by invisible iron bars that Sans apparently had. The skeleton's teeth were blindingly white, so wide and static and intolerable.

At that, Flowey growled, eyes narrowing, and choked out, "Why…Why are you still smiling?!"

Sans did the worst thing by far. He shrugged.

"birth defect."

He raised both arms.

Bones encased Flowey completely, connecting from the ground to the ceiling. So trapped was he that he couldn't even twitch a miniscule of his stem while he died.

* * *

Continue. Reset.

CONTINUE.

* * *

Flowey woke up in the garden, the dust of Asgore still fresh on his petals. He waited for footsteps, but never heard any. Just a voice, soft and chill.

"heya."

He turned to find Sans in that doorway again, as easy going as always, hood over his head. The flower said nothing, only glared as he worked the roots beneath him.

"you seem frustrated about something," Sans was saying, pupils winking out again. "that's the expression of someone who's died once before, right?"

The words were not expected. Once again, Flowey was caught off guard. "Wait, you… you can't remember what happened…" He shook his head. "You're not supposed to remember."

Sans was again denying him a response. Flowey snarled, extending his vines from the ground. _"You're not supposed to remember anything!"_

A shift within the space of his breath. His vines missed Sans by an inch. A graveyard of discarded bones was his reward, replacing the flower bed he had been on just a moment, letting him fall into that trap.

"i've always been more of a 'read the audience' kind of guy," he heard before he died again. "helps me do my job."

* * *

Continue. Reset.

CONTINUE.

* * *

Flowey woke up in the garden, the dust of Asgore still fresh on his petals. He waited for footsteps, but never heard any. Just a voice, soft and chill.

"heya."

Flowey didn't waste a second. He summoned his pellets, circled them around Sans' head to cut off the bony expanse of his neck. He laughed then, high-pitched, nearly a squeal. The skeleton showed no reaction, not even aware of what would happen to him a second later.

Sans winked as the pellets missed him completely. Slippers scuffed across the floor in a lazy tread. "what? you think I'm just gonna stand there and take it?"

In frustration, Flowey actually answered. "YES!"

But Sans took his turn at the first moment. Bones extended from all sides, entombing Flowey in its cagey depths.

"ruthless little thing, aren't ya?"

* * *

Continue. Reset.

CONTINUE.

* * *

Flowey woke up in the garden, the dust of Asgore still fresh on his petals. He waited for footsteps, but never heard any. Just a voice, soft and chill.

"heya."

Flowey turned slowly, realizing just how much he was shaking. "Who the hell are you? How are you doing this?"

Sans' grin was tight. "gonna have to be a little more clearer on that."

"Don't… don't play dumb! You know what I mean!" He twisted his face again, eyes bugged out, fangs dripping acid. "I'm the one with the powers of a god! I'm the one with determination! Not you!"

The single blue eye was ablaze, coating the throne room/garden in its tone. Flowey edged back slightly. "How do you know about me?!"

Sans gripped the flower again, invisible magic holding him tight, crushing him back to the ground.

"this is the first time i've ever met ya, buddy."

Bones aimed for him, like a wicked knife to the chest.

* * *

Continue. Reset.

CONTINUE.

* * *

Flowey woke up in the garden, the dust of Asgore-

"Get away from me!"

The silence was thick around his head.

"not even a hello? kinda rude."

He turned around, screaming at the skeleton incoherently. He wanted to see the stupid thing flinch, or something besides constantly smiling. Disappointing. Predictable. But unsettling nonetheless.

"You're not winning this time," Flowey promised, taking the advantage of his turn. He brought forth all he had, vines embedded with thorns, walls cracking apart from his power. He laughed, watching doom encircle the skeleton, ready for the inevitable scattering of dust.

Another miss, another summoning of bones. A mix of white and blue, confusing the senses. "what? you think I'm just gonna stand there and take it?"

Just because he expected the attack didn't make him dodge it any better.

* * *

Continue. Reset.

CONTINUE.

CONTINUE.

CONTINUE.

* * *

How many times had he tried? Flowey could barely understand what was happening anymore. Sans apparently did though. Somehow, he always did.

"that expression…that's the face of…" For a moment, Sans actually laughed, just barely though. "well…i won't grace it with a description."

Flowey shivered in both rage and fear. "You shouldn't be able to do this. You shouldn't know me."

Blue shifted into existence. "i don't."

"Liar." He huddled among the other flowers. "You know something that I don't. And it shouldn't be like that! Not at all!"

Sans winked, keeping the eye-socket with the blue eye wide open. "i like to take notes."

Flowey didn't know what to say to that. Uneasiness choked his throat, and it somehow made Sans keep talking.

"our reports showed a massive anomaly in the timespace continuum. timelines going haywire; jumping left to right, stopping, starting, until suddenly, everything ends." His voice turned an octave lower. "heh… it's because of you, isn't it?" Eye sockets darkened. _"and your friend."_

He couldn't understand.

"i first thought the anomaly must be doing this because they were unhappy, and that they would stop this eventually when they got what they wanted…or got bored." He shrugged again. "i mean, maybe all they wanted was just a few bad jokes, some good food, maybe some friends? but…" A pause. "going by what i see here, you're the type of monster that won't ever be happy, will ya?"

"Shut up." Flowey trembled more. "You don't know anything about me."

"not saying you're wrong." Sans' grin was hard to look at. "but i've had a lot of _time_ on my hands, and it's getting kinda hard to ignore what's going to come next. consuming timelines over and over, until… well, maybe it's about _time_ to call it quits, kid."

Sans raised his head slightly. Shadows draped over him like an old friend.

" _before you really mess things up."_

The millions of taunts that used to crowd in Flowey's mind, suddenly flitted away at that look. How could Sans know what he was doing, what he was going to do? He barely knew himself what he wanted to do next with his power! After the murder runs, what else would there be for him?

~~Find them.~~

Flowey covered the doubt with another laugh, shaky and subdued. "How can you know anything when it all resets anyway!? Not unless… not unless you have…"

Sans' face was mocking. "here, take it from me."

The skeletal animal heads appeared above Sans, a dozen or so of them, their jaws unhinging, revealing blackness. "every action stays. even when one timeline ends, and another starts, the effects it has aren't forgotten so easily." The blue eye's brightness increased in intensity. "and with every action, you will be judged."

"You can't judge a GOD!"

White light blazed from the myriad of heads arrayed with Sans, mimicking his same eye trick. "that's some complex ya got there, kid."

* * *

Continue. Reset.

…

RESET.

* * *

**They** never answered him, still.


	3. more of the same

His best friend had been angry with him lately. Whenever they went to bed, they would pointedly ignore Asriel's apologies, his bargains, and his cries. They would just say why he was being such a crybaby about the whole thing, and then turn towards the wall, going back to sleep. So when King Asgore suggested that Asriel take a walk with him to Hotland, his son had readily agreed. Usually, he did not want to go anywhere without his best friend, but they had already decided to stay at home with his mother, sampling her snail pies. It was the first time he had been separate from them, ever since both of their excursion out in the Ruins.

It was a hard decision nonetheless.

When they arrived, Asriel had wanted to visit the Core most of all. From New Home, he could still see the shining brightness of it, and if he closed his eyes, could swear he felt its heat, that heat that gave power to the rest of the Underground. But that was not where he was going today with his father. Instead, they went down the elevators to enclosed walls, sterile rooms, and flickering lights, embalmed in fluorescent shades. The laboratory felt really stuffy. He couldn't stop matting down the fur on his arms to get rid of the sweat.

"O-oh! Mr. Dream-! I mean! I mean, Your Majesty!" A yellow, hunched-over lizard monster was shuffling across the floor to both king and prince. She wore a white lab coat that engulfed her rotund body except her thick tail, with tiny glasses perched on her face. She had her claws held close to her chest, nervously clacking them together. It must have been hotter in here than Asriel first thought. This monster was also sweating, and by the tons!

"Howdy, Miss Alphys!" King Asgore greeted with a deep, sonorous voice. He nodded his horned head, his great mantle creaking with the movement. "Brief check-up. I do hope I'm not interrupting. Have I? Oh. I knew I should have called first." Though he wasn't apologizing just yet, a tiny verbal nudge could very easily get him to.

The creature called Alphys held up her arms, stuttering and blushing madly. "N-n-n- of course not! Ha ha… It's the perfect time! I mean, this _is_ a scheduled visit after all! It… It'd be weirder if you didn't come by at all! Um, I mean, it's great to have you here!" She was panting at the very end, breathing so heavily that Asriel thought he could detect the scent of something very high in sodium.

Asgore looked relieved. "I'm very glad. I hope you don't mind, but my son is with me today." He gestured to Asriel, who gave a polite wave. "You know, learning about duties and all that."

"Ah, y-y-yes, yes, of course!" Alphys wiped her clawed hands against her lab coat, holding one dry appendage to the child for a handshake. "I'm Alphys. I work here! Just recently. I mean, not that recently, it's been a couple of months. Interning and stuff. Fixing machines, and…um… electricity… things…" A nervous shifting of her eyes. The silence stretched between the three, until she finally broke it with a high-pitched, "Do you like anime?!"

Both Asriel and Asgore flinched at her sudden shout. The lizard looked startled enough herself, hunching even more into her coat. "Uh, well, howdy!" Asriel said anyway. "My name's Asriel. And… I don't know about… Annie May, but they sound neat!"

"I agree." Asgore said carefully. "They sound… very neat."

"Ha ha, okay!" Alphys was still flustering like mad. "Well, I can take you down to where the Doctor is working, but uh…" She lowered her head, trying to sink inside her coat like a tortoise. "I- I don't know if he wants, like… kids? …down there too? He's- he's very picky about this stuff." She scuffed her bare feet on the tiles, also topped with claws. "I- I can maybe talk to him about changing that policy? Maybe being like… a very strong keyword here…"

Asgore frowned, but not in anger, only in sadness. His mother had mentioned how whenever he pulled this look, he was very successful in imitating a kicked puppy. Like that time he had accidentally stepped on a Froggit's foot. He had been gloomy for a week after that. "Ah, I didn't know. I wouldn't want to make any trouble. I know how important his work is." He turned to his son, then back to Alphys. "Though home is kind of far, and we didn't bring anyone along to take him back. Oh, dear…"

Asriel tugged on the king's arm. "I don't mind just hanging around. I can just eat some stuff from the vending machine."

"A-actually!" Alphys squeaked, then swallowed audibly. "We do have a break room. It has a TV, some free food, so you don't have to like… hang out in the lobby. I mean, we don't even have chairs in here!" She laughed in a slightly hysterical manner, which immediately devolved into coughing.

Asgore kindly ignored that embarrassment (probably unaware of it) and smiled at her. "That sounds wonderful. Can you take him there? Then I can just see the doctor and be on my way. I believe I know the way."

"Oh! S-sure!" Alphys watched with longing as the King walked off, waving a fond farewell to both as if he were going on a long journey instead of just meeting with the Royal Scientist.

Asriel fidgeted. "I am kind of hungry actual-"

"AAH!"

Both jumped. Alphys was swallowing again.

"Um, I mean, ahhh I didn't expect you to talk so soon."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"No, that's fine." She fidgeted in her coat pocket, pulling out some gold coins. "Do-do you want some chisps? I mean potatoes? I mean popatos and- and- oh my god, I can't, seriously?" As she stuttered, she was walking to the vending machine placed against the front wall, already popping in her money to buy a snack bag.

Asriel was grateful. "Thanks!" he said as softly and kindly as possible, but Alphys was still freaking out. Well, he was trying.

Holding his new popato chisps, Alphys led him down another branching corridor, passed by a large open area with machines plugged in, and some beds placed in the center ("A lot of us work for long hours, so we just sleep in the lab sometimes! Haha… not like we're losers or anything!") until they reached a halfway open door. There was the brief sound of static coming from the room, which, when Asriel walked in, could see coming from a medium-sized television set. It was placed on a wobbly-looking table. An overflowing trash-can, filled up with rolled-up wads of crinkled paper and nothing else, was right next to said television.

"Oh, Sans! How come, I mean, how come you didn't let the tapes run?"

Asriel somehow didn't notice the skeleton at first, despite that he was laying across the bench of a nearby table. Arms were placed behind his skull, leg bones visible for all the world to see as he stretched them to cover the entire bench. Asriel recognized him instantly, though he was dressed mostly different this time; wearing a white lab coat that matched Alphys', with the addition of some casual shorts.

"have to read the stuff to understand what's going on in them." Sans turned away, giving a great yawn. "this show's better."

"There's nothing even on!"

"it's just a bad episode."

Looking mad for the first time, Alphys prompted the small prince to follow her in. "Uh, sorry, Your Majesty. There's a bunch of stuff for you to pick here, if ya want. And there should be some leftover burger and fries over there somewhere."

Asriel was looking through the bookshelf that Alphys was pointing at, fascinated by the varying colors and titles of what seemed to be hundreds of DVD cases. "Oh, what's this one?" He pointed more to the right.

Alphys squeaked. "Ah! Not those!" She immediately went to pick up the cases of an entire row, cradling them close.

"told ya those should be locked somewhere."

"Not helping, Sans!" Alphys nearly tripped over her feet as she rushed, then turned back quickly. "Oh, and this is Sans. He also works here and, and, uhhhh, he's nice! Really! Sorry, I gotta go!" And that she did, her large tail dragging across the floor, yelping whenever a DVD case nearly dropped.

Asriel stared after her until he felt a tap on his arm. He looked to find Sans standing now, just barely a few inches taller than the child.

"mind sharing some of those chisps, royal buddy?"

Asriel grinned. "You remember me!"

Sans shrugged. "yeah, my memory skills are off the charts." He pointed to the bag again. "seriously, though."

Asriel fumbled, ending up giving Sans the whole bag instead.

"hey, thanks for treating me." Sans unhinged his jaw just slightly to pop a chisp in his mouth. It was uncanny to watch.

Asriel's stomach suddenly growled. He reddened underneath his white fur. "Um.."

"alright, fair's fair." Sans gestured him back to the lunch table. "just avoid the ones with mold and you're good."

Too famished to think about that sentence very hard, Asriel seated himself at the bench. A long and, strangely familiar, farting sound whooshed from his posterior. He jumped, making the sound hiccup in its note.

"oh, that's where it is. thanks, kid." Sans grabbed the whoopee cushion from the seat when Asriel stood up. "should probably eat up before it gets… well, it's already cold, but once it reaches sub-zero temperatures, ya got nobody to blame but yourself."

Asriel sat back down again, looking over half-open boxes of greasy burgers and fries that had just been upended on the table right out of their holder. Some of the grease had already sunk into the table, and now appeared to be the foundation of a tiny colony where microscopic monarchs were erecting statues in their name. At least, that's what Asriel was assuming. He just looked for the freshest food, a far distance away from that spot, and took the chosen burger while grabbing a handful of fries. They were so cold that he felt like he was holding a pack of icicles. He ate too fast to notice, outright swallowing the stuff whole with as little chewing as possible.

Sans looked impressed. "geez, at least leave some for them. they're going through a famine right now."

Asriel wiped his mouth with on his arm. "Sorry. Mom usually doesn't let me have fast food." He then took a gigantic bite of the burger, eyes lighting up at the flavor of cheese, onions, and 'secret sauce' that made up its contents.

"that's rough." Sans ate another chisp. "the same for your friend, right?"

His stutter was too obvious. "oh, uh, y-yeah. though they get a lot of dessert stuff…"

Whenever he spoke like this, adults usually tried to find out what was wrong, and he would go through such lengths to bring back his smile again. There was nothing to explain, especially when it wasn't their business.

"neat," Sans said, still eating. Asriel looked at him, wondering if he heard right. His eyes once again strayed to that lab coat. There was a metal pin latched onto a pocket for holding identification cards, but such a card appeared to be missing.

"Are you a doctor?" he asked.

"talking to the wrong guy here." Sans then discreetly took out what looked like a red bottle from the inside of his coat. He poured its contents straight into the snack chip bag. "i just mainly handle the clean-up."

Asriel swiveled his head around the break room, looking at the greasy food, the wobbling TV stand, and the overflowing garbage can. "Really?"

"sure, we'll go with that." After finishing his chisps, he rolled up the bag and aimed it at the garbage, landing it perfectly on the building pile. "if ya got some more burning questions, kid, you can just ask."

Asriel placed his half-eaten burger back on the table. "You still never told me what your secret mission was."

"oh, yeah. well, it's been long enough, i guess. go ahead."

He was caught off guard by the sudden surrender. Laid with so much power in his hands, the prince wasn't quite sure what to do. "Wh- Um, I don't- I mean, your job-"

"all very good questions, kid," Sans interrupted. "kay, my turn. you on a field trip?"

"N-no, my dad brought me here." The King, he tried to correct, but realized it was probably too late for that. He then tried being clever. "Learning about what goes on around here… like secret things, you know, since I'm the prince and all." He looked at the skeleton expectantly.

Sans gave a wink. "nice try."

Asriel pouted. Why couldn't he just -?

"you know what? i'll throw ya a bone. but only because you asked so nicely."

Asriel bluntly asked, "Are you being sarcastic?"

"hey, i'm serious here. no _bones_ about it."

Okay, that was enough bone puns, even though Asriel did his best to not crack a smile. He crossed his arms. "Sans!"

"heh, okay, don't worry." Sans pulled out another object from his lab coat, bony fingers placing it on the table next to Asriel's half-eaten lunch.

The prince stared at it, trying to understand what he was seeing. But no matter which way he looked at it, or how hard he squinted, it just looked like a regular plastic container full of…spaghetti?

"Uh?"

Sans answered his question with another. "ever heard of time travel, kid?"

* * *

Sans' room was always off-limits.

"Come on, Papyrus. Just carry me in a flower pot and let's sneak in! Sans is supposed to be working his station after all."

Papyrus placed a bony hand on his chin, eye sockets narrowed as he used more brain power then he probably ever did in his life. "BUT WE MUSN'T. IT IS AGAINST THE SKELETON BROTHERLY CODE. IT COULD UNRAVEL ALL OF EXISTENCE AS WE KNOW IT."

"Okay, but what if it's unlocked anyway?"

"OH. THEN I GUESS THAT WOULD BE OKAY."

Flowey waited in the snow while Papyrus just stood there vacantly, steps away from the front door of his house.

Finally, "IT'S ALWAYS LOCKED THOUGH."

Knowing Papyrus would be useless, as he _always_ was, so why the heck did he think he would've been some kind of help… Flowey tried going in by himself. He crawled underneath the house, breaking through the carpeted floor none too subtly, knowing he could just reset it away, and then slipped under the crack of the bedroom door. All he found inside was a sparse room with a bed like most normal bedrooms, a mass collection of dirty socks, (He never even wore socks, what was the deal here?), a turned-on treadmill in the middle of the floor, and several blankets all rolled up into one gigantic, greasy ball. Heaving from the stench, Flowey had left right away. Even without a nose, this was too much for him.

Determination isn't something so easily let go of. All Flowey had to recall was that sickening grin, the pain of his body being punctured to shreds, and his murderous rage would shoot through the roof. It was enough to make him slaughter any other monsters passing by, like Lesser Dog, Ice Cap, and those chill Snowdrakes especially, their lame jokes reminding him so well of someone else's. Yeah, he was determined – determined to slowly pick apart Sans' bones one by one.

When that thirst came, he would settle for Papyrus instead. But it just wasn't as fun anymore.

He didn't reveal himself to Sans after those defeats. Only because he honestly didn't know what to expect anymore. He had gotten too used to the boring predictability of the Underground. Now that he was thrown a curve ball, he fumbled on his way to being the winner again. And every game he played, he feared the prospect of losing. Not like he hadn't lost before. Countless times he had let himself get killed by a random monster, just to spice up his murder runs. He even let Undyne and Papyrus have a chance at victory, though the skeleton idiot never took advantage, always halting his last attack and going into some sappy speech about being good, like his spaghetti or whatever.

Sans barely had to even try to give Flowey a hard time.

So instead of the usual introductions, he followed Sans around instead, retreating back into the ground when the very threat of the skeleton turning around was a possibility. It wasn't easy. Sans would turn into a corner, or go through a thicket of trees just to immediately vanish from existence. And when he even did keep Sans in his line of sight, it was uneventful. The hours of his stalking consisted of watching Sans sleep at his station, hanging out at Grillby's, or walking around with Papyrus around Snowdin. Sometimes he would be sitting at the door to the Ruins, knocking on it and mumbling jokes to himself. Flowey would have laughed if his throat didn't always feel so raspy nowadays.

When Sans slept, Flowey thought that perhaps this would be the perfect opportunity to pay the skeleton back. Yet he always hesitated. Bony eyelids would flicker, the snoring would break in rhythm, and Flowey would dive back into the dirt. Maybe next time. There was always a next time.

He had found out one thing at least–a room in the back of the brothers' house that even he never knew about. Sans sometimes went there, but whenever Flowey tried to follow, the door was always locked. Diving underneath it didn't help. The floor to whatever this room was seemed to be made of steel. Not even Alphys' Laboratory had floors this strong. Hours would pass as he stalked the premises, and then he'd overhear one of the sentry dogs panting about how Sans just beat them at poker over at Grillby's, confusing the heck out of him.

The whole mysterious aura surrounding Sans was seriously pissing him off.

One night, as Sans left Grillby's yet again, patting Doggo on the head and tossing him a treat, Flowey went back to his routine of trying to find out what was Sans' deal. He popped up back and forth into the snow, making as much noise as any regular flower would, which was nothing at all.

And then, just a few feet from the house, the skeleton stopped.

"hey."

Flowey froze.

"you that talking flower my bro keeps telling me about?"

Stupid Papyrus and his big mouth. He'd make sure to tear out his jaw next time.

"Guess the secret's out," he said in a merry voice, face arranged into a picture of perfect innocence. "Howdy! I'm Flowey! Flowey the flower! Nice to meet-"

Sans turned.

"…you?"

His eye sockets were dark. Slippered feet were placed in a wide stance, hands dug deep in his pockets.

"you've been following me around for a while... trying to start a fan club for me or what?"

The air shifted behind Sans. Flowey jumped back several feet, not wanting it, not understanding it at all. "What are you doing? You're not supposed to be doing this. This isn't you."

Sans' voice showed a hint of tightness. "pretty presumptuous of ya."

Flowey was shaking his head. "What the hell are you anyway? Tell me!"

"can't reveal all my tricks. they'll start losing their appeal."

The air drifted with thick snowflakes, frosting the edges of his petals, stiffening his leaves.

"Just stay away from me! Stay away!" His voice shifted, like claws making marks against stone, gouging deep. "I'll kill everyone again if you don't. Those stupid dog guards, that bartender, and your brother. I'll make sure I'll keep killing him again and again, _and make you watch!"_

Sans said nothing. His smile was all teeth, and no joy. Pupils lit back up in the depths that served as his eyes.

"one of these days, kid, you're gonna have to learn when to _quit."_

Flowey ran away, not wanting to hear the rest of it.

* * *

Continue. Reset.

RESET.

* * *

Continuing from his original SAVE point, Flowey skipped Asgore, Toriel, and all the other monsters completely. He didn't want to deal with them. He didn't want to deal with anyone.

He burrowed underground with the worms, hiding underneath the floorboards of homes, overhearing the simple, asinine conversations of everyone around. He didn't want to put on anymore fake smiles, or deal with fake compassion. Not now. Not when he had had problem to get rid of first.

No more waiting around. No more being cowardly and weak. His best friend would agree. This only proved a point anyway. In this world, it was kill or be killed. So he was going to kill Sans once and for all. The best time was when he was at his sentry station, sleeping and unguarded. Flowey knew the routine.

And if Sans was easy enough, he might just kill him again. After all, he was only paying him back. As if Flowey was about to let some _comedian_ have the last laugh.

He was confident as he popped out of the ground to emerge into the white-covered Snowdin, breathing the Underground air after several days of dirt and rock. When he did so, he found himself on the pathway that led to the Ruins, straight and narrow, lined by tall trees that stood as erect as well-trained guards. He had gone a little off-course, but that was no problem. Sans was just a little further ahead. He was already grinning as he edged forward, his miles-long roots reaching out to that wide-open glade where the skeleton was resting.

Bones punctured up from the ground, severing one of his roots.

What? _What?_

Shock drowned him completely when he blinked and suddenly found Sans there, just a few feet ahead of him. Hands stuck in his pockets, his stance slouchy. That blue eye of his was already shining.

"looks like we got a little weed problem here."

He held out his hand, palm facing forward. Giant heads materialized behind him.

Flowey tried to retreat. Already he felt so stiff. "Wait!" he pleaded.

Sans didn't wait.

* * *

Continue. Reset.

RESET.

* * *

When Flowey woke up, he stayed exactly where he was; at the center of the garden in the throne room, where the reflection of sunlight could be felt, where the echoes of birds could be heard. He waited with the other, non-talking flowers, petals shivering at what had just happened.

What the hell had that been all about?

In the half-light, he thought about what he had seen. Could Sans have recognized him? Did he already know Flowey as the creature that had killed his brother, his friends, over and over again? Could he actually retain his memories, unlike the other, useless idiots in this world?

No, he realized. That wasn't it. When Sans had gone up to him, there had been no recognition in his stare. No previous memory, no realization as to who Flowey was. Sans, in this new timeline, hadn't known him yet, as should have been expected. Flowey had been completely new to him. Then why…?

He must have let something slip. Instead of all smiles, he had grinned with hungry revenge, thinking he was alone. Sans had seen that, hidden away in the trees, in the ground, in whatever place he pleased.

Sans had decided to kill him then and there because he hadn't trusted him.

"But that's just stupid," he muttered. "He'd be killing everyone if that were the case. Like me!"

Sans could not be this ruthless.

Sans could not be this scary.

"He just makes stupid bone puns!" Flowey shrieked to himself, knowing that Asgore wouldn't hear him, that no one would. Nobody ever did, for hours at a time. "He's not worth anything!"

Not anymore, at least.

Timelines, anomalies, scientific gibberish. Flowey couldn't go back any further to where Sans must have done something important for once in his life. He couldn't go back to when Sans had done whatever stupid research he was talking about. He knew. He tried already before. He had tried going back to a time when his best friend was still alive. He had failed, of course. This place, this garden with its useless plants, was as far as he could go.

Whatever made Sans go off-route for that timeline, it was enough to make him commit murder.

"I just have to get better at faking, even when by myself!" He practiced immediately, making sure his eyes were bright and eager. "He can't kill me if he sees me all happy! Just try again. Like always! Try, try again."

Flowey didn't move from his spot. He stayed rooted, lowering his petaled head among the other flowers. He could try, try again. And he would die, die again. Again and again and again.

"I'm not scared," he whispered to no one. "Right?"

As expected, no one answered.

* * *

Flowey headed straight for Snowdin again, quick in his travel, careful to not let precious hours waste away. He had been too slow before. He'd catch Sans unaware for sure this time, and give him a cheap death. It wouldn't be satisfying, but it'd least give him one tiny victory. Not like he wasn't opposed to stabbing people in the back for his own gain. He'd already done it hundreds of times before. No more hesitating. Just crack open his chest and watch the dust fall.

Once again, he had overshot his destination. He was back on that narrow pathway, but even further down the line. He recognized where almost instantly. Ahead of him were the gigantic double-doors that led straight into the Ruins. Frost covered its surface, marring the engravings of the Delta rune that was perched on the archway overhead. On his earlier runs, he would sometimes pause here, remembering trudging through the snow when he had two feet, remembering holding someone's large paw when he had paws of his own. Back then, the doors would open silently for monsters bearing that same crest, but not for a flower. He would instead have to slink under the ground to get past it, making his own way in.

His eyes traveled down those doors to the ground. Sans was there, sitting in the snow, looking straight at him.

Flowey stuttered. "Wh- what are you-?"

Sans held up his forefinger. "one sec."

Not knowing what else to do, the flower waited.

The skeleton laid his skull against the doors, pupils peering at a point at his right side. A knuckle tapped against the stone. "okay, so that's, um, five eggs i'm using? and a whole lot of butter?"

From behind the door came a familiar voice.

"Ah, no, you just need three eggs for the filling. As well as six tablespoons of butter. Then mix it with some brown sugar, two cups of milk, and prepare the whipped cream separately… am I going too fast? I apologize."

At that, Sans smiled, then turned his full gaze back to the flower. Flowey couldn't seem to get his throat to work, and wasn't sure if that was because of what he was learning, or because of the way Sans was staring at him just now.

"nah, no worries. i'll give a shot at making it today. sorry to keep _yolking_ your chain about the ingredients this much."

The voice laughed at the pathetic excuse of a joke, giving a few snorts here and there that were muffled by the door. "Ah, do not worry. I am sure you will _whip_ up something great!"

It was Sans turn to laugh, his sides shaking. Flowey did all he could to not gag.

"here, i just came up with a new one," Sans was saying, never taking his eyes off the flower. "what's the worst thing about getting hit in the face with pie?"

A giggle. "I cannot even imagine. What?"

Through a few snickers, Sans answered, "it never ends!"

Flowey blinked at the bout of laughter from them both, then growled in anger. That joke didn't even make any sense! What the hell?!

"Oh, goodness! Funny _and_ smart," said the voice. "I haven't heard a good math joke in ages."

"don't worry. i got a _million_ of 'em."

 _NO,_ Flowey was desperate enough to yell, but was soon cut short.

"I'm afraid I must leave now. Please do tell me the results of your cooking tomorrow."

"you got it. same time, same place?"

After some grueling minutes, the laughter finally stopped. The person behind the door left, leaving Sans truly alone with Flowey.

Petals quivered in frustration. "Of course you'd get along with _her."_

Sans flicked his hood over his skull, half-covering his eye sockets. "sweet old lady, isn't she? and how about you? got a name?"

Flowey's patience was wearing thin. So much for any stabs in the back today. "You already know who I-!"

"hey," Sans interrupted suddenly. His voice got very low. "wanna see something cool?"

From his pocket, he pulled out a tightly wadded-up blanket. Wait, no, it was a cloak. Dark blue, with trimmings on the side. He unfurled it slightly, and on the back of it, words were stitched in red threat. Words that read, 'The Great Papyrus.'

"Wait." Flowey edged back, recalling. "I… how did you get that? That was so long ago."

White pupils blinked at him, like the bright stones that glowed in Waterfall. "that expression…" Sans said. The sound of rattling bones filled the air. "how many times we gonna keep doing this?"

Flowey retreated back into the ground.


	4. old prejudices

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lied! It's now 6 chapters instead. Doesn't change much, no worries.

Going to the Core had been another family outing of sorts. Both the King and Queen had stressed to their children that this venture was very important for all involved. Asriel nodded in understanding, even though butterflies kept flying through his chest.

He had wanted to see this place before, but all he could do was nervously shift whenever they went down a long, blue-tinted hallway. To the sides were the power of the Core, giant make-shift towers that brimmed with energy that was hotter than the lava back in Hotland. Lights cut through the walls, flashing bright and then dimming every few seconds. Led down the way by a gray-tinted monster in those white lab-coats, Asriel and his parents were off on their way to see the Royal Scientist’s latest work.

The group would cross bridges, sides descending down into unending darkness. Asriel craned his head up to the rafters, finding metal nodes with their centers dark. Defense systems, he heard the gray scientist say, keeping out trespassers. And even if such ingenious technology wouldn’t work, there were always the guards. It was intimidating to just look at them, the tall and silent Knight Knights instantly kneeling when the royalty passed them by, gripping their staves, the giant eyes on their chest following all movements. Occasionally, a Madjick would hover near, floating by, their ecstatic smiles discomfortingly familiar.

His best friend was purely fascinated with it all. This was where the monsters instilled both magic and technology together, didn’t they?

Asriel was only too glad to answer them. It had been the first time in weeks since they’d spoken with him. Their previous conversation was still held up in the air, but maybe this meant that his best friend would finally forget about that plan. It was really much too dangerous.

“Yeah, they use all these big machines and extract our energy from it. At least, I think so. I think Dad knows more about it.”

Their best friend smiled widely. Maybe they could ask him later?

“I guess?” Asriel scratched the back of his head. “Hey, why are you doing your creepy face now? I didn’t ask you to yet!”

Because he didn’t have a camera this time, silly.

At some point, as Asriel and his best friend talked with other, both had gotten separated from the others. Buoyed by the sound of their parent’s voices, a constant to their footsteps, neither had noticed how much fainter it got as time went on. That and the hum of power from the Core, continually simmering and heaving like a ragged breath, made everything sound mixed up, akin to a one-note symphony. Asriel finally faced forward, realizing that the pathway beyond was bare of any royal parents.

“Uh.” He looked left and right, feeling a slight panic speed up the rhythm of his heart. They were both at a crossroads in the Core, pointing at all four of the cardinal directions. “D-did you see where they went?”

His best friend was busy looking at the west hallway. Perfect time to explore, wasn’t it?

“You know we’re not supposed to!” They were already off, forcing Asriel to follow. “Hey, wait!”

They could be pretty fast when they wanted to be.

The pathways in the Core had a tendency to be confusing for newcomers. It was why the King and Queen needed guides, and why some of the scientists even needed a map for their workplace. It didn’t help when the corridors would suddenly change from one day to the next, with builders constantly restructuring the location. Not on their own terms, but the Royal Scientist had some strange fail-safe solutions when it came to his work. Precautions must be made, and sometimes regular guards just wouldn’t do.

Asriel didn’t think too much about that. He just wanted to find his friend, and hastily went after him, his bare feet slipping on the shiny floors. He knew he was only getting himself lost on the way, and the constant hum of the Core was giving him a massive headache. But he didn’t want to be alone, and though he couldn’t see them anymore, though they wouldn’t respond to his calls, he turned a corner and came upon a dead end.

At the end of the corridor was a locked door, and one of those fancy lab doors, too. The kind that swished open whenever one got near them with a futuristic sound. It was made of bright metal, polished so well that it was a perfect mirror for anyone looking in it. Asriel saw his reflection from a distance, though the details were fuzzy for him. All he could make out was his white muzzle and his striped green and yellow t-shirt.

But he wasn’t paying much attention to that. Because in front of the door was his best friend in the same matching t-shirt.

And Sans.

They were talking with each other.

Why were they talking?

Both didn’t seem to notice him. Like a frozen block of ice, Asriel remained where he was, feeling sweat dampen his fur again. He wasn’t sure why, suddenly, he felt so very nervous. His best friend was only talking to the skeleton, hands clasped behind their back, their voice calm, their words clear in their enunciation. And maybe that was the strange part. How clear their words were, yet Asriel couldn’t grasp them. Like something out of a dream, the meaning of those words escaped his grasp, making it almost seem that his best friend was saying nothing at all.

Sans was standing in front of the door, hands in the pockets of his lab coat, identification card still missing. He was looking down at the human child, though not by much, standing only one or two inches taller. The whiteness of his skull was so very bright, standing out against the blue-tinted walls, against the hum of energy and magic continually coursing through the air.

He didn’t look very happy.

Asriel felt his legs moving forward, slow and careful. He was afraid of the slickness of the floor. What if he missed a step and fell over the very edge, into that brightness where every home got its power from? Why did that thought pound inside his head over and over, like an inevitable thing, like something so predetermined it was foolish of him to think there could be any other possible outcome?

As he got closer, he realized that his best friend was the only one talking. And strange, really. They had never talked this much before.

He knew that Sans saw him, a quick shift of those white pupils, trailing him as he walked forward. But only distantly, an acknowledgement that, yes, there was something else out there, but now was not the time to give it more than a glance or two. For one quick second at him, he took several more with the human.

The skeleton was not happy at all.

Asriel was getting worried.

He tried to move fast, or as fast he could despite whatever danger he felt he was in. The air was too thick, and his limbs moved too slow. Each step he took only allowed his best friend to edge in another word, only allowed Sans to listen to it, to store it, to keep it on record for as long as it took.

**You’re not going to like it-**

Asriel stretched out his arm.

**-if you stay in my way.**

He grasped his best friend’s shoulder. They turned, eyes wide.

“H- hey, what’s… do you…” The prince looked from both the human and skeleton. “Do you two know each other?”

Why would neither have told him that?

Weren’t they his friends?

“heya, royal buddy,” Sans greeted. “this your friend? thought they were the new pizza delivery monster at first.” A sneaker scuffed across the floor, looking too big for the monster’s feet. “guess the lack of pizza should’ve tipped me off. and monster.”

His smile looked strained.

Before Asriel could say anything, his best friend tugged away from his grip. They immediately walked off. Mom and Dad were probably looking for both of them. Should probably hurry.

He couldn’t understand. “I… I guess?” was all he could say, watching their receding back. He started to follow.

“hey.”

He stopped, but only for a second. If he waited any longer, he was going to lose sight of them again-

“asriel.”

That made him pause completely, made him turn. Sans hadn’t ever said his name before.

The skeleton gestured him over. “let them go.”

What…? “But, I have to-”

“just for a sec.” He gave an easy wink. “need to talk to you about something.”

* * *

It happened sometimes.

When Flowey would start his resets, hovering in that space of pure nothingness, where the world that he knew didn’t exist, where time itself was nothing but a concept, he’d remember certain memories, certain events.

Each time, as Sans kept making a fool out of him, the memories of his time as a kid would resurface. Sometimes about the home-cooked meals from his mom, his gardening trips with his dad, or his private conversations with his best friend.

And sometimes, he’d remember Sans.

He didn’t like these memories much at all. Not anymore.

The words ‘Continue’ and ‘Reset’ floated before him.

* * *

“have you been thinking about what i said?” Sans asked him in all seriousness. “back at the lab?”

He took Asriel further out into the hallways, retracing their steps through the Core. Not unlike another time, when he had been alone in the Ruins, meeting a skeleton for the first time, who had a love for puns. Except now, there was a very, very subtle edge in the hint of Sans’ voice. Not like he was angry, but more like as if he was watching out for something.

Asriel could only try to answer the best way he could. Which wasn’t very good. “Oh, uh, yeah. Like, um…” He gestured in the air, but it was hard without the materials.

“here.” Seemingly out of nowhere, Sans had another of those spaghetti containers in his hand. “better picture now?”

Asriel kept staring at the spaghetti container, its top now peeled off, revealing its overcooked contents within. Red sauce that was much more water than sauce sloshed all around it like a living thing. “Yeah, um, like…” He pointed at it, hoping he could make himself understand at that moment. Didn’t work. “About time and time travel, right? Time stuff and all of that is like…. noodles, because…”  A pause. “Squishy?”

“well, time  _can_  get pretty squishy.” Sans made an A-OK sign with his hand. “so you’re not completely wrong.”

Asriel had tried understanding what the skeleton had told him before. A hint of what he was working on. Time travel. It was something out of a science-fiction book that he had once read, having found it in the dump where all sorts of human refuse fell to. He had tried showing it to his best friend, fascinated with the plot, but they had said they had read it before. He then tried telling him about Sans and the stuff both had discussed back in the lab. Again, his best friend said they had read all that before.

It was still hard to comprehend. He scrunched his forehead in thinking, instantly starting off a migraine. Sans snapped bony fingers to catch his attention. 

“here, don’t worry about it. no one gets it on their first try.” He held up the spaghetti container higher. He pointed at the noodles. “so remember? time is weird and all. it’s not a straight line actually. it goes all over the place, left, right, stopping, starting, beginning… ending. and the future…now, here’s where it gets real tricky. past affects the present, present affects the future… but then it goes back around again, until the future is now the past, see?”

Asriel could tell that the subject was a bit unsettling, but he didn’t know why exactly. He nodded. “I get it.”

“nah, you don’t.”

He huffed. He had to get better at lying more.

“basically, time is like spaghetti. all different timelines, possibilities and whatever, just crisscrossing each other until you can barely tell which belongs to which. so…” he was already chuckling. “the _pasta-bilities_ are endless.”

The prince had to laugh at that. “I think I get it a little!” he said. “For real, this time.”

“little’s fine. better than none. but you see, the problem with this…” Sans held out the container far from him. “something like this can happen.”

He upended the spaghetti, dumping both sauce and noodles onto the floor.

Asriel jumped back. Luckily, none of the sauce had fell on his clothes. “Wha…” Sans hadn’t told him about this before. At least not this way.

“don’t worry. it wasn’t edible. anyway,” Sans tossed away the plastic container to the side, though Asriel never heard it clatter to the floor. “time can stop, too. completely. without warning. get it?”

“Y-yeah?” Asriel found himself asking, “Why would it though?”

Something shifted in San’s expression, but it happened so fast that he couldn’t be sure about it at all. “that’s what we’re trying to find out.”

“Oh.” Asriel almost felt a little disappointed. “I thought that maybe you were going to travel back in time to like… before the humans sealed us off. I mean, I guess that sounded way cooler in my head but-”

“that’s a lotta work. got no _time_ for that.” Sans was chuckling again at his joke. It took a while for Asriel to catch on.

“besides,” he said, softer, looking away. “time’s too tricky to mess with like that. you never know if you’d actually change anything.”

That was confusing. “But why wouldn’t you?”

“well, the thing is, the future’s all set already, right? if you know what’s going to happen, can you actually change it? like, here, if we did somehow go back to before we all got stuck down here. if we went back and tried to change it…what if that’s what we were supposed to do in the first place?” Sans finally stepped around the spaghetti pile, shoes cleared from any sauce splatters. “future affects the past, enough that anything we do, no matter what, doesn’t actually change a thing. all predetermined. almost like...”

Sans’ eyes grew so dark then. It was hard to tell with the way he was turned away.

“kinda like we’re stuck in a never-ending time loop.” He turned to the prince. “ya get me?”

For the first time, he felt frightened of Sans. He stepped more to the side. “I… I don’t know if I do.”

Dim light came back to the eye sockets, like the lights to a dark house. “that’s probably for the best.”

Asriel thought about the mess on the floor. Time can stop. So everything led to-

“speaking of which,” Sans checked his wrist, where a watch might usually be. But there wasn’t, so he was just looking at a bony wrist. “it’s probably _time_ for you to go back.” His gaze shifted to a point beyond Asriel’s head. “right, kid?”

Asriel looked behind him, finding his best friend seated on the floor, several yards away. They’d been waiting for him.

“Oh! I’m sorry! We- we were just talking about stuff.” Asriel took a few steps, hesitant. His best friend wasn’t making their creepy face but still… “Did you find Mom and Dad?”

Yes. Both were in the next hallway, stuck in boring talk with some scientists.

“We should probably go, before they really notice.” Asriel turned to Sans, giving him a wave. “Thanks for… for helping me out again.”

Sans’ shrug was super lazy. “not a problem. it was nice seeing ya again.”

His best friend said it was time to go.

“I know, I’m coming.”

“oh yeah,” Sans called out to the kids as they walked off. “thanks for hanging out with a bonehead like me. really appreciate it. learned a lot, too.”

His best friend tightened a hand around his wrist. Did he have to be so slow?

“Ow, that kinda hurts…” Asriel turned back again. “Um, yeah! Of course!” Though what did he mean really? “I’ll see ya later, okay?”

And then, Sans started to laugh, just barely. He didn’t… he didn’t like that sound. It wasn’t like before.

“right. later. just watch out for yourself.”

His best friend’s fingers dug deep into his fur. The words trailed after him, like an echo.

“won’t always be here to look out for ya.”

* * *

Future affects the past.

Flowey thought it over with great distaste. What little science project did that skeleton do to make him think such a stupid thing? All that Flowey ever did was change the future to his own liking. Not by some preordained way. This was _his_ choice, all done through _his_ power. He ruled over everything. He was the prince of this world, and the rest here were nothing but idiot pawns.

He was not acting out a script to some cosmic play. He was God now. He was in control. He did all this because he wanted to!

What gave that comedian any right at all?!

The words ‘Continue’ and ‘Reset’ started to fade.

* * *

His best friend confessed something to him. About his other friend. About that skeleton. Did he know that Sans had been following them?

Asriel gasped, his little voice encompassed within the four walls of their room. The hour was late, the soft snoring of their parents letting them know that this was the safest time for them both to talk. “What do you mean?”

Oh, Asriel knew what they meant. Wasn’t it clear that Sans didn’t like his best friend? After all, some monsters down here still didn’t trust humans. And his best friend had tried to break the ice back at the Core. Didn’t Asriel hear them try? Didn’t they see Sans not giving them any care at all?

“He _was_ acting really weird.” Asriel didn’t want to believe it, yet he couldn’t help connect that with their first meeting back at the Ruins. Those words he left him with, that look he gave his best friend. Was Sans really like that?

Obviously he was. His best friend gripped his hands. He had to see, didn’t he? That was why they had to leave Asriel at the cliff back then! Because they had seen Sans, and knew what he wanted. A human soul, an easy prey to break out of their prison. They only came back because they were worried for Asriel and the danger he was in with Sans. It had been risky, because Sans could have hurt his best friend then. He could have hurt them very much.

And it made Asriel so very sad. “But he can’t do that. It’s not like you’ve done anything wrong.”

No, they hadn’t. But Sans thinks they will. Future tense. _They will._ And wasn’t that all kinds of messed up? He was a monster speaking of irrationalities, finding excuses for a human sacrifice. His best friend once knew people like him, and those people always did something drastic.

Asriel gripped the hands back. “I won’t let him hurt you! I promise!”

His best friend laughed bitterly. It was too late. Asriel had talked with Sans too much. Given him too much. He had messed up again, like always. What kind of friend would do that?

Asriel felt the tears, and did his best to wipe them away. “I’m sorry! I… I never meant to. I didn’t even talk about you with him that much!”

No, but he had talked with him anyway. And that was enough. More than enough. His best friend smiled. And now there was no other choice.

His best friend reminded him about the plan.

He shook his head. “We can’t. What about Mom and Dad? It would… they’d never let it happen!”

For once, Asriel needed to listen. For once, he needed to not cry like a big baby. Sans was a perfect example of restless monsters. After all, the monsters wanted to leave, and saw no way out. And Sans being a scientist, one of those trying to find other ways of breaking the barrier… obviously such ways were failing. Obviously, Sans was growing resentful. Obviously, he had heard about the strength of a monster with a human soul, and about the only living human here in the Underground. Babbling about timelines and science formulations was just a cover-up.

It would be better if both Asriel and his best friend beat him to the punch. Then they could both free everyone.

Like a crybaby, Asriel wept. “I don’t want you to die…”

The hands gripped his back so painfully, enough to ache his bones. Didn’t he understand? He couldn’t let a crazy monster get hold of a human’s soul. Mom and Dad wouldn’t be able to stop Sans, not with the weird way he moved around. His best friend knew that more than anything. So don’t bother crying to them about it.

Asriel couldn’t say anything more.

His best friend then spoke so soothingly. Please, they were friends forever, right? He’d do this for a friend? For his family? Or did he want to let Sans kill his best friend first? And Sans would, wouldn’t he, Asriel?

**Wouldn’t he?**

* * *

Flowey chose to RESET.

There were names he couldn’t remember.

There were faces too, gone from existence.

All things that barely mattered anymore.

Just as each reset made him remember certain memories, it also made him forget something else, with those memories washed out like some ruined painting. He couldn’t keep both. He could never keep both. Eventually, the memories became flickers here and there, until they ultimately floated away from him like nothing. Useless. Unimportant.

When Flowey finally woke back up, in that garden with all the flowers, all he knew, all that he could recall in clear, crisp detail was the promise he and his best friend had made. Yes, I would never doubt you. Not you, he had said. I’ll go get the flowers. Then we can finally be free.

“And you’ll come back for me, right?” Flowey asked out loud, watching the world shift back to its original position, watching another line in the realm of endless possibilities form again. “You promised, after everything was done, you would.”

Again, no one answered.

**They** must have not heard him.


	5. spot the differences

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you've enjoyed the journey so far.
> 
> Next and final chapter will be a short one, so stay tuned!

This run, he decided not to rush things.

Flowey knew that Alphys would keep her cameras perched in secret places around the Underground, which he had always avoided well. Sans didn’t have anything like that, as far as he knew. But then, anything was possible with that freak. He seemed to know Flowey without truly knowing, seemed to track him well without the need for video feed. At the very least, Sans never seemed to appear at his very first SAVE point, before any of the days would pass. It was probably the only safe space he had, and he’d had enough.

Flowey still hadn’t managed to break into that basement either, another secret locked away from him. What a mistake. You shouldn’t keep secrets from a god.

He was slow and methodical in his journey. He wriggled through the dirt, waiting for that mess of a king to come out and water the flowers in the garden for hours at a time. He came up behind him, his pellets winking into existence, then aimed them at Asgore, who had never known what hit him. With his soul floating through the air, Flowey destroyed that as well, satisfied at the sound of it breaking.

He traveled through New Home, killing each and every monster he came across. Some had made themselves comfortable in his house. Some even slept in  _their_  room. It was only right to get rid of them. They were trespassing, and it was bad luck to trespass into a house whose first occupants were already dead.

He traveled through the Core, not at all fascinated by the play of neon lights and complicated machinery. He killed every monster he came across here, some hiding in single rooms, others hanging out by garbage cans. He felt like there was something else he should know, but every time he tried to remember, static would fizz around his vision. He blinked, and the world would break apart, like a bad television reception. Objects stretched, lost color, and would only leave him with an echo of a whisper. He didn’t like the feeling, and hurried off, breaking apart the tiled floor as he burrowed under.

He traveled through Hotland, the heat from the lava wilting his delicate petals. He extinguished monsters of fire, and watched contentedly as Tsunderplanes exploded in midair. He avoided the conveyor belts, suffered the vents when no ground was available for him to cross, and made it to the lab where that dinosaur nerd was sweating over a mess of machine parts on a table, looking vaguely human-like. To the tune of a television set in the background that played catching melodies alongside the metallic hum of some overdramatic rectangle, Flowey had squeezed the life out of Alphys, snapping bones, crafting dust from the waste. He had killed all of the amalgamates, too, knowing that what he did could only be considered a kindness.

He traveled through Waterfall, ignoring the jewels twinkling from their place in the cavern walls. Voices from echo flowers drifted past him, both young and old, both hopeful and lost. He was disgusted. What use was there in wishing upon a bunch of rocks when the real stars were outside this prison? That was not how things worked, but monsters were notoriously stupid and naïve. It was just one of the reasons why they got trapped in the Underground in the first place. Flowey took out his anger at those in his way, such as that old fool, Gerson, who should have died long ago, and that monster kid, who couldn’t understand the concept of danger until it was staring at him in the face and was saying, “Yes, I’m going to kill you, and no, I’m not your friend.” He regretted not being able to kill that depressing ghost, but made up for it by killing Undyne, snapping apart her spears, hearing her make the angriest fish noises that one ever heard before she melted away. She didn’t make things easy for him. On other timelines, he would have found that invigorating, liking a little challenge before he did away with her, too. How satisfying it would be, fighting someone who didn’t dodge from his attacks like nothing. But he wasn’t in the mood, and struck her down to the floor with great distaste.

Determination wasn’t for the weak.

With his numbers higher than they’ve ever been, he traveled through Snowdin, passing by the skeleton brothers’ house. He didn’t bother breaking in. He knew their schedules (or at least, one of their schedules) and that they wouldn’t be home right now. He made due with massacring each painfully unfunny Snowdrake, or each ugly as sin Gyftrot. Most of those in town hadn’t gotten away in time, so Flowey, cheerful and helpful flower that he was, bestowed unto them his friendliness pellets, picked them up with his vines until dusty powder coated him like a fine sheet of snowflakes.

In one of Snowdin’s many snowy fields, a figure appeared to him from a distance. Papyrus was here, hands on his hips, the red scarf (or a cape that was just too small for him) of his battle body wavering dramatically in the breeze. Yes, at the very least, one of these skeletons never broke routine.

“HALT RIGHT THERE! FOR I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, AM WITHIN YOUR LINE OF SIGHT.”

Flowey could definitely see that. He smiled widely, enough to ache the pollen center of his face. “Howdy, Great Papyrus! I’m Flowey! Flowey the flower! I was hoping to find you here!”

“EVERYONE HOPES TO FIND THE GREAT PAPYRUS, NO MATTER WHERE THEY ARE.” The skeleton swiftly pointed at the flower, making sure to pose as dramatically as he could. He nearly cracked a rib bone while doing so. “I ALSO HAVE A HOPE AS WELL. ABOUT YOU. AND ME, TOO. BUT MOSTLY YOU RIGHT NOW.”

“Oh, gosh, is that so? And what do you hope for me then?” Flowey lowered his voice just a fraction, satisfied to see the skeleton tremble slightly at the tone. But dear Papyrus sure loved acting the brave and daring hero. Flowey knew he wouldn’t run.

“I HOPE A GREAT MANY THINGS FOR YOU. THAT YOU, MY DEAR FLOWEY, WILL MEET UP TO MY AMAZING STANDARDS.”

“Yeah, I can make all kinds of spaghetti.”

“OH?! THAT IS-! BUT, UM,” Papyrus flustered, his pose wilting just a tad. But he persevered, keeping his bony finger pointed at the plant. “I MEAN DIFFERENT STANDARDS, THOUGH THAT IS A VERY GOOD START. I’VE HEARD WHAT THE OTHERS TOLD ME, ABOUT THE TERRIBLE PATH YOU HAVE CHOSEN. YOU SPEAK SO BRIGHTLY, BUT…” And here, Papyrus grew more nervous, beads of sweat dripping down his skull, despite his lack of pores. “IT DOESN’T SOUND LIKE YOU ARE VERY HAPPY, AREN’T YOU?”

Flowey twitched.

“AND THAT’S OKAY. AND ALSO NOT, BECAUSE YOU NOT BEING HAPPY IS MAKING YOU HURT EVERYONE. WHICH IS VERY BAD. SO, NOT OKAY AT ALL.” Papyrus then spread out his arms in a welcoming embrace. “BUT I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, CAN HELP YOU. I CAN TEACH YOU THE WAYS OF HAPPINESS, BY BEING YOUR FRIEND. SEE? ISN’T THAT LUCKY OF YOU?”

Flowey had never been lucky in his entire life.

“YOU WILL HAVE TO MAKE UP FOR WHAT YOU DID, BUT I WILL HELP YOU GET THROUGH THIS. WE CAN HAVE SLEEPOVERS, PUZZLE SHENANIGANS, AND SPAGHETTI WITH OUR SLEEPOVERS AND PUZZLE SHENANIGANS. A SPAGHETIGANSOVER! YES, THAT WORD I JUST SAID.”

“I don’t want it,” Flowey finally spoke, any hints of brightness fading to nothingness. “I just want to kill you.”

Papyrus was now shaking, but he still kept his arms wide open. He could be a tough monster if he was ruthless enough, or had a taste for some measure of violence like Undyne. But it didn’t matter. He lacked the will, and it made him a thin, jagged and fragile monster in turn, despite his usual tough defenses. Because of his desperation for friends, it also made him easy to toy with. In all the other runs, Flowey had simply torn him apart, so amused by his death, so amused that someone who could have been something, was still weak after all.

Despite his numerous chances, Flowey didn’t strike Papyrus down just yet. He had never taken this long with him before.

“N-NOW JUST WAIT A MOMENT. THOSE ARE THE WORDS OF A QUITTER. Y-YOU MUST STRIVE TO BE LIKE ME, THE G-GREAT PAPYRUS. YOU MUST REMEMBER THAT FRIENDS, LIKE ME, WILL… WILL ALWAYS BE HERE TO HELP YOU.  AND MAYBE SANS, WHO-WHO WON’T DO MUCH, BUT THAT’S FINE.”

Papyrus walked closer, even going so far as to go down on his knees to meet the Flower face to face. His arms were open, still, even to the very end.

“LET’S GO ON A CAMPING TRIP AND GET SOME LIGHT INTO THOSE PETALS OF YOURS. HOTLAND HAS PLENTY OF THAT. DO YOU LIKE THAT IDEA? I CAME UP WITH IT MYSELF! NYEH HEH HEH… HEH…”

Flowey’s face was a painting of black and gray, cutting deep into him, highlighting the emptiness of his eyes, and the sharpness of his fanged mouth.

“You idiot. Don’t you know we don’t get any sunshine down here?”

Vines shot forth from the ground, gripping Papyrus by the limbs. They punctured through his ribs, circled around his neck. His red scarf was ripped from his back. He was dust before he could do a thing.

For several minutes, he treasured the silence. Then he grew to hate it. He went to the next area.

At the sentry station that stood outside the pathway to the Ruins, he didn’t find Sans. Just an illegal treasure trove of half-empty ketchup bottles behind the counter, their caps already crusting over. Flowey waited in that open area, eyes peering at snow lumps and a conveniently shaped lamp that he knew Sans had once found in the garbage dump.

He waited for someone to show up. But nobody came.

So he moved on.

* * *

He left his mother last for a reason.

Flowey usually hesitated with her. After countless resets, he would give up on the king completely, rushing to the Ruins to be with her, despite knowing how it would all end up. Her voice, her constant baking of pies, and even the sight of her smile, were echoes of something that he had once felt. With Asgore, he stayed for weeks. With Toriel, for months, nearly a year or more. She’d read him snail facts, bake him snail pies (and some that were not), cradle his petals as if they were the long, floppy ears he used to have. She would cry for him, too, lamenting the fact that her son’s form was lost, but also joyful that at least, he was still here, promising that he would never be alone again.

But still, after all that, he never felt anything. So he killed her. Once, twice, dozens of times. He barely felt anything then either.

He wanted to make sure, just once more. He wanted to give his mother another chance at making him feel like there was not just a void inside him. Or did he really? Maybe he just wanted to yell at her. Maybe he just wanted to see her suffer. Maybe he didn’t want her to change him at all.

He might as well finish what he started.

“Mom!” he shouted, wriggling around the house, sifting through the cracks of the floorboards. From the basement, he headed straight for the living room, where she always was. He imagined her sitting in her armchair, glasses perched on her face, the cozy fireplace giving the home a pleasant heat. “Mom! It’s me!” He popped out, face transforming into that expression of a long-lost child, complete with white muzzle and weak eyes. “It’s Asri-”

There was a grinning skeleton sitting in her chair.

“heya.”

Flowey felt every sense of him still, unable to even understand the skeleton winking at him, holding up a glass half-full of what looked like milk. He was leaning his cheek against a bony fist, propped up by the chair’s arm rest.

“you’ve been busy, huh?”

“I’ve- “ Flowey’s throat closed. He noticed then the fireplace was out, and that there was no faint scent of snail pie cooling off in the kitchen. He shook his petals so violently that they threatened to fall off his head. “No, you’re not supposed to be here!” _Not again. Not again. He can’t be doing this again!_

“sorry. didn’t get that memo.” Sans balanced his glass on the large armrest, then stood up, hands digging into the pockets of his coat. “but let’s try to work with it.”

He didn’t have his hood on this time. The paleness of his skull stood out so brightly against the warm, almost autumn-like colors of the room. The place was cold and deserted. San’s pupils flared slightly, so subtle in its brightness, enough for Flowey to feel drawn. He knew it would be a mistake to blink even once.

“Where is she? What did you do?!”

“out.” Sans gestured to himself with a pointed thumb. “just got me here, bud.”

“I can see that!” He wanted desperately to look through the rooms. Maybe she was penning down events in her journal, or dusting off his old toys in their chest. “Tell me where the hell she is, Sans!”

No surprise at the knowledge of his name, no shock, no anger. Nothing. Just the same aggravating smile.

“you didn’t ask nicely.”

Both kept still, with no hint of a sound breaking their self-imposed silence. Flowey slithered his roots underneath, aiming them towards Sans’ feet. But he didn’t like what he saw, this air of ‘been there, done that’ that was made all the more bewildering as the skeleton assessed him like a new creature that had never before been discovered. It was the same look he had given him from the last timeline, seated in the snow, holding a gift that should not have existed.

Flowey turned, rushing towards the bedroom corridor. _“Mom!”_

A projectile flew past him, exploding the wall to his right. Barely missed. The thrown bone dematerialized instantly, leaving only a hole that opened out into the front yard.

“not gonna stay for a chat?”

He kept going, seeing the skeleton out of the corner of his eyes just standing there, hands in his pockets. He turned away, and a familiar heat engulfed his back. He dodged to the right just in time, the blast of light and energy setting the corridor into a charred mess.

_I’m going to lose to him again?!_

Well, couldn’t lose to him if he wasn’t there, right?

Flowey tried to burrow back underneath, but was immediately pulled back up, like a troublesome weed that didn’t know its place. Roots dangled beneath him.

“Let go of me! Let go!”

“k’.”

He was thrown through the hole in the wall, thrown so far that he flattened right against that dark, leafless tree. He slid down, the flower falling with the red, crinkling leaves.

Staring up, he blinked. Sans was there in an instant.

Flowey righted himself up. He couldn’t control his shivering. “You’re making a mistake,” he said desperately.

A slippered foot stepped onto the leaf pile. The sound of the crackling, dry leaf was as sharp as glass. “wouldn’t be the first time. i’m good.”

“Stop acting like that! You don’t think… you don’t think I get what you’re trying to do? Acting all cool when you’re just another stupid idiot like the rest?” His eyes narrowed, voice dropping to a hiss. “Stop messing with me! You don’t have that right! This world is kill or be killed. But I’ll kill you first, and then go after her. You can’t hide her from me, you can’t-!”

Flowey stopped. He looked once again at the house, always so warm, with the armchair that was never empty for very long, with the heat of fire magic felt in the air. He realized then, and the very thought of it made him laugh, a sick and twisted sound that came out of his mouth. He watched as Sans stared at him, not doing anything.

“Why did you bother anyway?”

“come again?”

Flowey kept cackling, unable to stop. “So you decided to do something for once. You decided to save some lady behind the door, whom you’ve never met, and only shared all those terrible, stupid jokes with. You saved _her_ , but not your precious bonehead of a brother?”

Sans didn’t react. He didn’t say anything at all.

The flower curled back makeshift fangs in his face, as if they’d been drawn in with a pencil, ready to shift or erase whenever he wanted. _“You’re just as messed up as I am.”_

He laughed again, the sound bouncing off the stones.

The front yard that they both stood in was colder than it usually was. Yet through the chill, there were the piles of red leaves, some crowded near the tree’s base, some shoved off into corners. There were always red leaves, always red, and never anything else. On those first few tries when he attempted to feel, he’d watch as Toriel would huff out a breath of fire, the magic catching onto those dry leaves, igniting them immediately, crimson engulfed by flame. It was more efficient than simply raking them to a corner, and the draft that would come through the Ruins’ corridors would blow away the smoke. She used fire magic for so many things; yardwork, heating pot kettles, setting up the fireplace. Never against Flowey though. Never against the creature she would know to be her son.

Those leaves drifted across the stonework, brushing up against the twisted, black tree. Sans didn’t shift when a tumbling leaf would cross over his foot, or catch onto the hem of his jacket. He had his smile on, his pupils piercing through the depths of his eye sockets.

Flowey got impatient. His fanged mouth downturned to a frown. “Well!? Don’t you have anything to say?”

That had been enough to make Sans laugh in turn. Not as loud, not as long, but there.

“kid, if you’re trying to rattle my bones… well.” He shrugged. “you already did so plenty before. you’d remember that better than me.”

Flowey was going to lose his god-damned mind. Why did this comedian never act the way he was supposed to?

Sans casually leaned his head back, staring at the fragmented ceiling above. But the flower wasn’t fooled. Even when those eye sockets darkened, like twin pits of tar in a white wasteland, they never left him.

“took a lookie at my notes, and, i dunno, i guess you kinda _ticked me off_ in one of your little resets. you remember, i bet.”

Flowey didn’t need to be reminded. “Is that how you say hello now to people? Blasting them to bits?”

“maybe i should.” Sans tilted his head forward again. His left blue eye winked to life, traces of yellow swirling its depths. “but then, seeing as we’re still here, i can see how little good that did. and after all this is done, you’ll just start over anyway. everyone here, with no memory of what came before. including me.” Softer. “no matter what i do.”

“Then… then why bother?!” Flowey asked again. He was tempted to smash his head against the tree.

“i can’t begin to tell ya, bud, what makes me keep trying.” His grin widened. “maybe it’s just for the look on your face.”

“But you won’t remember! You just said so!”

“hey, don’t make light of my drawing skills. i worked hard on them.” He lifted one hand that was coated in blue. “Papyrus liked my flower sketches plenty.”

Another grip. He lifted Flowey off the ground, pushing him to the right. The plant flew far, skidding on the ground so hard that a gouge was made in the rocky stone.

Not dead yet. His HP was high, along with his LOVE, and he wasn’t caught off guard completely this time. Flowey pushed himself back up on shaking leaves, Sans’ shadow already over him.

“Then I won’t reset then!” Flowey bluffed. “No matter what happens! If you kill me, this timeline is set! You’ll be alone, everyone will stay dead, and it will be all _your fault!”_

“kid.”

Sans flicked a finger towards him. He was sent flying backwards again.

“don’t get my hopes up.”

Then whiplashed straight into the ground.

“i know at some point the timelines are going to end.”

Flowey tried getting up again. A ring of bones unearthed around him, missing him by fractions of an inch.

“and that soon there won’t be anything left.”

He remained still, watching Sans move closer to him somehow without seeing it. As if he had always been just a few feet away.

“but you don’t actually want things to end, do ya?”

For the first time, there was a hard edge to Sans’ tone. A sharp thing that tore through his hearing, and it made him resentful. How could anyone understand?

“instead you keep calling out for the one that will. that anomaly.”

His best friend had always been the exception.

“but kid…  i don’t think they’re listening.”

Flowey didn’t know, continued to say nothing. He didn’t notice the bones had retreated back into the floor.  The wind that blew through the corridors made him shake.

“you get me now?”

He raised his head. Something about the way he smiled was different. Less forced. Sans recognized him then. Then? Before? Or…?

“so why don’t we try something better this time?” He winked. His left eye this time. Blue was covered. “since i won’t always be here to look out for ya.”

That smile.

“You know who I am?”

Sans knelt down so that he could see Flowey face-to-face. Casual, relaxed even. “well, i have a theory. wanna confirm it for me?”

It was more than déjà vu. It was a fated thing. It was a reflection in a broken mirror, of a need to reclaim things that were lost. Like before, when the golden flowers only thrived on the Surface, when Sans helped him out of a bind.

“Are you… trying to save me? After all that I did?”

Sans shrugged it off. “hell if i know.” The way he spoke suggested that he really didn’t.

It was his stance. The way he shifted, no longer as tense, and the air of energy and rattling bones didn’t feel as pronounced anymore. Why was that? Why was he reminded of small, worthless meetings, back when the very thought of a new friend was enough to make him so happy? Why was that something to be noticed at all?

But that smile showed everything. And it reminded Asriel of-

It reminded him of the small hands gripping his back, the hissed whispers, the dare of promises. He would’ve killed me, Asriel. He would’ve killed me.

And that was all Flowey could remember.

“I don’t need your worthless pity!”

For that moment, Sans let down his guard, taking a chance on mercy. And in that moment, Flowey took his own chance like a hungry, cornered animal, wringing it to shreds as his vines encircled around Sans’ waist. The skeleton’s eye sockets widened, but not in the way that his brother’s did. Pupils minimized to tiny pinpricks of light in the blackness of space. He pulled out one hand from his coat pocket, but a vine wrapped around his wrist before he could do anything. More vines kept Sans’ other arm locked for good measure. He felt a sharp pain. A small piece from his vine had been slightly torn off, held in Sans’ hand before retreating back to his pocket, but he was too excited to care. Sans could claw away at him as much as he wanted to. It really didn’t matter.

Flowey laughed ecstatically. He lifted the skeleton high in the air, keeping him wrapped tight. As helpless as a bag of discarded bones.

“You idiot.” He turned his face into the epitome of a nightmare. “I win this time.”

He enjoyed watching Sans’ struggle, the grin on his face so tight it seemed his teeth would shatter. Bones materialized in the air, but Flowey swatted them away like flies, watching them break apart on impact.

“Oh? Trying to fight back? Here, Flowey the flower can help!”

Thorns erupted from the vines. Sharp, protruding things that punctured through the right side of Sans’ ribcage. They broke just as easily as his weapons had.

“Uh oh! Guess you should’ve drunk more milk when you had the chance. Oh well!”

The vine around Sans’ right wrist tightened, stretched, first breaking it from its socket, then ripping it off completely. His hand, along with the upper part of his arm, was tossed to the ground. Already, parts of it was disintegrating.

Sans didn’t make a sound. Just holding the same grin, forever cursed to wear.

“How sad! But we can’t stop now!” Flowey’s voice dripped pure venom. “I’m going to pay you back for every death you gave me. Bit by bit.” He focused on Sans’ left leg, watching with glee as cracks already started to spider-web down the bone. “Then I’ll start over, and do the same to your brother. Every. Single. _Time.”_

Another sharp crack. Something dripped out of those broken bones, like a mix of red and yellow paint, but Flowey didn’t care. He tossed that useless body part aside to land in the many piles of dry leaves.

Sans still didn’t say anything. Despite all the pain he must have felt. Despite that, already, his body was fading.

“Given up now? Wow! That’s the smartest thing I’ve ever seen you do!” Flowey summoned his pellets then, friendly little things only meant for friendly little friends, all ringed around Sans’ head. “But it’ll be a while before I’m done with you yet!”

Then Sans did something. He inclined his chin just a fraction, enough to dim his pupils to nonexistence. His voice was the raspy texture of sandpaper.

“then what, bud?”

Flowey’s grin wavered. “What?”

“will they answer you now?” Sans grin widened. Like before. Like – “it might be time to call it quits.”

Again, that worthless pity. It sickened him, it hurt him. He didn’t like the feeling. It’d been too very long. He didn’t want it anymore. He had never wanted it in the first place.

“I won’t ever stop! I’m not you! They’ll come back for me! I don’t need _your_ help! I never needed it!”

The same vine punctured through Sans’ chest, leaving the entirety of his ribcage a fractured mess.

_“You can’t understand how this feels!”_

He could barely breathe.

There were tears, actual tears flowing down Flowey’s face then, watering the ground, sinking through the cracks in the stone, nourishing his roots. He couldn’t make it stop, no matter how much he tried. _I always was a crybaby, wasn’t I?_

_Is that why you won’t talk to me?_

Though his vision was so distorted, hurting his eyes so much, he could see Sans still, held suspended by his vines. There was barely much of anything of him left. Just broken remains that couldn’t stand up to a brief gust of wind. It was then that he saw something that he had never noticed before. All the dumb bone puns, the lazy hand-waves, and the light of his blue magic, which was now fading fast, flickering from the inside of his skull like a dying machine; they had all masked Sans so very well. Not once in all of his discarded timelines had Flowey seen it.

“…heh…”

Sans, eternally smiling, gazed down at the flower with utter hopelessness.

“so we have…  something in common.”

Flowey kept his vines still, curved around the empty space in the air, long after the skeleton had turned to dust.

* * *

He didn’t bother trying to find Toriel again. Flowey suspected where she was, where Sans must have taken her. But he was exhausted, and putting in the effort didn’t seem to be worth it. It wasn’t like the Underground was vast or anything. He could find her later if he needed to, if he ever wanted to. But that was the last thing he wanted now.

He looked back at the house, feeling a weight drop into his stem. Despite the now gigantic hole in the wall, it was still standing. He could have gone into his – their – old room, but he decided not to. Again, the effort didn’t seem to be worth it.

Instead, he went back to that small cliff, where he had once fallen down, however many years ago, out of the structure of the crumbling Ruins and into empty wilderness. He raised his head up, letting the silence fill him. He peered through the rocky ceiling, trying to find that hole where the human must have fallen through, but he couldn’t tell from this distance. He couldn’t see anything but the hazy reflection of a dark sky. He was a bright, yellow thing in the suffocating darkness. And it was quiet, the monsters that lived already having evacuated, or hiding away. No frantic crying of a Whimsun, no deep croaking of a Froggit.

His throat felt so raw.

“Help me,” he whispered. “Please.” Then he called out his best friend’s name.

They didn’t come.

Sans didn’t come either.

Nobody came. But that was okay. Flowers can’t feel sad.

Flowers can’t feel anything.


	6. encore

It was always on a Monday morning that he found something new in his pocket.

Sans stretched out his arms as he woke, kicking away the rolled up blanket from his bed. As if by rote, he dug one hand into the pocket of his hoodie that he virtually never took off. (He liked sleeping in layers). There was the familiar crinkling of paper where he liked to take notes on, fingers trailing along the edges, and the imprint of familiar writing. He gripped the paper – and something else.

Papyrus, meanwhile, was already knocking rabidly on the door, threatening to punch a hole right through it. Which had actually happened at least a dozen or so times. “BROTHER, YOU’VE BEEN SLEEPING FOR 13 HOURS STRAIGHT. I AM STARTING TO THINK YOU ARE DEAD.”

Sans yawned widely, cracking his jawbone with a satisfying clack. He rubbed the sleep out of his eye sockets. “nah, bro. just busy working.”

“NO YOU’RE NOT.”

Sans chuckled as he trudged across his room, gingerly stepping around the treadmill, and narrowly avoiding the self-sustaining trash tornado, where the pizza slices from last week’s dinner had now joined in. When he finally opened the door, his right hand stayed within his pocket, keeping his objects secured. “so, what brings you here?”

Papyrus had his arms crossed, his elbows quivering, ready to knock out an eye or two with his twitchy movements. All on accident, of course. Papyrus always felt bad about hurting someone.

“REALLY, SANS! YOU’RE GOING TO BE LATE FOR WORK AGAIN. IF WE MISS CAPTURING A HUMAN, I’M BLAMING IT ON YOU.”

“relax, bro. i’m just _bone-tired_ today.”

Cue the incoherent screaming. Papyrus stomped his booted foot on the ground. “WHAT A TERRIBLE WAY TO START THE MORNING.”

“come on, that was a good one.”

“YOU TOLD ME THAT SAME JOKE EVERY MORNING FOR THE LAST THREE WEEKS.”

“and it gets funnier each time.”

“I’LL DISOWN YOU THIS TIME. I MEAN IT.”

Sans laughed at that, and was tempted to bring out his trombone for some of the usual pranks of musical agony, but it was probably wise not to test Papyrus’ very tame threats. Not when he was being such a good sport.

After the usual arguments over leaving his pet rock uncared for, and how his sock by the television was starting to fuse with the floor, both brothers finally left the house, and were greeted to snowfall and darkness. Sans trudged through the deep banks, the instant sogginess of his slippers not bothering him. Papyrus was already yammering away about what kind of puzzles humans might like. Maybe crosswords? Well, it wasn’t word searches, that was for sure. And can Sans stop trying to hand those out at his sentry station? It might not be so bad if he didn’t charge people for those puzzles, but the little monster kid was so gullible, that he really believed the word search was different each time. Papyrus could not understand the child’s taste in puzzles. Truly not a refined one. He certainly needed a role model to sway him from such a dark path in life.

Sans mentally counted the stash of gold he had made on his repeat customer. “okay, bro. i won’t sell them at my regular station.” Just the one at Waterfall, where the kid also liked to hang out. And the Hotland one. People liked puzzles with his hot dogs. Who knew?

“GOOD. FLOWEY SAID HE’S SEEN BETTER ANYWAY.”

Sans blinked, but kept walking. “everybody’s a critic.”

Papyrus insisted on walking with him all the way to his usual spot, insisted on seeing him hard at work, which really included of Sans sitting down and not already nodding off. Once satisfied, Papyrus waved to him goodbye for five minutes straight, walking backwards before finally hitting a tree and running away, thinking it was a human that had assaulted him while his guard was down. His booming voice was soon lost to the silence of Snowdin, which was thick and lodged into one’s skull like wads of cotton. It had a tendency to do that. Though Sans personally compared the sensation to fluffy blankets that covered up your ears. Well, if you had ears anyway.

And that thought was almost enough to make him fall asleep again, the snow falling around him, sinking into his bones, enough to give his fibula a sheet of frost. But his eyelids wouldn’t sink, and the silence was more invasive then inviting right now.

Just like today, his brother had been telling him some things about his new friend.

Sometimes, when no one else was around, a flower would appear to Papyrus and whisper to him. Akin to sweet nothings, or little secrets between besties. Flattery, advice, encouragement.

Predictions.

Sans then took out the items from his pocket. Snowflakes drizzled on his notes, printed with a nearly unreadable scrawl, only known to Sans personally. Papyrus had tried once, and it had given him a headache for hours. Sans saw new pages that he didn’t remember writing the other day, and looked over them carefully. At times, he saw little drawings too. Some of himself, which were really just an egg-looking thing in a blue jacket, and Papyrus, all pointed edges tacked on carefully and with nice detail. At the corner, there would be an innocent sketch of a flower, with a penciled in happy face. Papyrus had noted how Sans got the likeness of his flower friend without even meeting him once.

He pulled out the next item from his pocket. A torn vine, its shade a dark green, with wicked red thorns all over its sides. It was coated in fine, white dust.

He had felt this before.

He kept a pile of such things in his basement, things that did not exist in this timeline. The temporal shift between different pockets of space didn’t always make his souvenirs so stable. Occasionally, it would take a while for them to materialize in this timeline, and sometimes they’d simply never show up. It was a gamble for him, but sometimes he won his prize. Though maybe he’d have the redefine what exactly ‘winning’ meant in this situation. At least it was better than keeping a simply tally of the lost futures.

But it was always on a Monday morning that he’d get his prize, if he could. That was at least his one, personal constant, despite the many variables. Sans would investigate it more if it actually meant something.

In his basement, those items he could bring back lay locked in specially-crafted drawers. A shattered teacup, a storybook about snail princes and princesses, and a grand cloak with Papyrus’ name on it, just to name a few. The only thing he kept with him at all times was his notes, and only after certain adjustments to the benign paper to withstand time’s many fluctuations.

He gripped the vine between his phalanges. Looks like he’d add another to the pile.

“back to square one, huh?”

He turned to his left slightly, seeing the shadow of something far off. It was hard to tell what it was. But it vanished under the snow, like a rat that had been much too close to the light.

Sans put the torn vine back in his pocket. Heh, weird.

He probably should be more careful this time, but it’s hard to learn from something that hadn’t actually happened yet. Time loops. Gotta love ‘em.

After ten minutes of pure slacking off, Sans got up, heading straight for Grillby’s for lunch. At least, that’s what his first thought was, but the shadow behind him was not very good at being subtle.

“bro’s probably hungry, too,” he said. It wasn’t good to leave him alone for very long.

The shadow moved around him, waiting. Maybe he should talk with them. Maybe he should let them know that, hey, no hard feelings. But he wasn’t the best at lying, despite popular opinion.

He felt them hesitate.

Maybe that was a good thing?

Better not push it though.

He turned into a copse of tall trees, feeling the familiar hum run through his skull, like a chain saw cutting through his cranium. The world flattened, lost color, and soon he was gone, the click of darkness engulfing everything before reaffirming themselves back into reality.

The shadow lost him immediately, standing there, wilted among the snow, a lone thing that waited for different factors to change the outcome. For something better, whatever that meant.

But Sans left them with a little parlor trick. Because they both might as well make the best of it.

An echo of his words, floating back to the shadow, floating through the snowfall, sifting through the elements to make themselves known.

“catch ya later, buddy,” it said.

And that was it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're at the end!
> 
> Thanks to those who've stuck with this and for all the likes and comments. Any extra feedback is always appreciated. But thank you all again. :)
> 
> I'll be writing an extra little scene about what happened between Sans and Toriel in this story, if you wanna keep an eye out for it. It'll be posted separately. Exciting!? 
> 
> Until next time!


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